


Sacrifice So We Do Not Fail

by Odium Dei (Odium)



Series: Prince of Sacrifices [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Dark and Light Magic, Gen, Global Magic, Magic, Manipulative Dumbledore, Moral Ambiguity, Revolutionary Voldemort, Slytherin Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2018-07-22 19:38:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 33,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7451518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odium/pseuds/Odium%20Dei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The summer after first year is a tense one, and Harry wants to escape as soon as possible to the United States with his godfather. With all that happened the previous year, Harry doesn't want to stay around his family - but knows he'll have to face them eventually once school begins again. All Harry wants is to be free - that shouldn't be too hard, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Do Not Fail

###  Prologue: Do Not Fail

Severus Snape was working on his experimental Wolfsbane potion when he heard a knock at the door. He cursed and cast a stasis spell on it, and went out of his potions lab to answer the door. 

Snape didn’t expect to see Lucius Malfoy standing on his doorstep, but hid his surprise and said,

“Why, Lucius, what brings you here? Surely such a plebeian environment as this neighborhood is not your... natural habitat, so to speak.” Lucius momentarily grimaced faintly, making Snape remember why he liked his interactions with this man, even if, and partly because, he was a blood purist - he was entertaining, if he looked for the right signs.

“May I come in? I know that you are... averse... to the natural elements, and would not like you to become even more... weathered... than you already are,” Lucius said, a smirk creeping onto his face. Snape then remembered why he disliked his interactions with this man, as well - he was all too good at the game Snape played, though he used it for different purposes - like growing his power in the Ministry. Snape, however, knew that he needed to hide his expressions at all times, and thus gave no reaction. 

“But of course, Lucius - my home is open to you. For now, at least - I wouldn’t suggest coming in uninvited,” Snape said as he moved out of the way for Lucius to come in. “What brings you to my humble abode?” Lucius made sure the door was shut before replying,

“Our Lord has a task for you.” Snape raised an eyebrow, and Lucius motioned towards Snape’s wooden table, one that had two stiff-backed wooden chairs. “Perhaps we could speak at your table?”

“If that is what you wish,” Snape said, walking over and sitting in one of them as Lucius took the one opposite him.

“On a brief side note, why are there two chairs? Need you not only one? Unless you have somehow gotten a lover?”

“I have not,” Snape said, masking his irritation with the skill that came from his years at the Dark Lord’s side. “I have two so that when I have an important visitor, we can discuss matters of grave importance. Or, in this case, when I have a visitor such as you, make useless small talk.” Lucius narrowed his eyes, and Snape continued as if he had not seen a thing. “Now, what was it our Lord wanted of me?”

“Our Lord has acquired the Philosopher’s Stone, as you may know,” Lucius said, masking the irritation he was no doubt feeling. “He would like you to brew 52 doses of the Elixir of Life so that he may regain his body.”

“I see. And how am supposed to brew this without a large sum of money for the ingredients, the recipe for it, and the Stone itself?”

“I have all three here, but I have been required to inform you that you are only to use them for the purpose of brewing the Elixir of Life for our Lord. If it is found that you have used them for a different purpose, our Lord will be... displeased.”

“I see.” There was a brief silence, and Lucius pulled out a shiny red stone, smooth and glossy, as well as a book with yellow parchment and and a stained cover. He set them both on the table, and then pulled out a bag that jingled with the sound of money. 

“The stone is self-explanatory - though one such as you might be expecting instructions on its care.” Snape didn’t miss the attempt by Lucius to slight him because of his care for precision. “The book is one of our Lord’s; do not do any more damage to it - he would be  _ most _ displeased if he found out that it was so. The recipe for the Elixir of Life begins on page 23.” Snape nodded. It was useful that Lucius was telling him so that he wouldn’t have to search through the entire book and risk “damaging” it. “That bag has a hundred galleons in it. You may check their authenticity.” Snape cast a nonverbal spell to make sure they were real, and confirmed it. “If you need more, you may ask me by owl post, and I will have them delivered to you.” The ice in Lucius’s voice made Snape certain that Lucius would find a way to get back at him if he asked for more when it was not truly needed. 

“I understand completely.” Snape met Lucius’s eyes seriously. “I would not want our Lord’s resurrection to go awry.”

“Neither would I, Severus - and woe be to the one who causes its demise.” Lucius got up from the table, dusting his robes off as if he had sat in a pile of dirt. He went to the door, saying, “Goodbye, Severus.” 

“Goodbye, Lucius,” Snape said, impatient for the man to leave. Lucius opened the front door, took a step out, but then turned his head back.

“Oh, and Severus? Do not fail.” Lucius left, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

_ As if that wasn’t already obvious.  _

###

“Sirius, someone’s here for you!” Lily called from the sitting room. 

“Alright, I’ll be right there!” Sirius called back, getting up from his chair that he was reading the paper in. He glanced out the back window, looking at Dylan and Ron playing Quidditch with Neville and Parvati. 

_ I’m glad that Dylan has good friends - he’ll need them to defeat Voldemort, when the time comes,  _ Sirius thought.  _ Though hopefully not for some time, even if he is coming back. _

Sirius went to the door, opening it and seeing Andromeda Tonks - a member of the Order, he realized. 

“Sirius, I need to speak with you,” she said, and he nodded.

“Where?” 

“Preferably outside,” Andromeda said, and Sirius knew it would be important. 

“Lead the way.” Sirius shut the door, following Andromeda somewhat far to a creek in a forest. “What’s so important that the Potters can’t hear it?”

“Dumbledore ordered me to tell this to you, and only you. No one else is to know, because he’s not willing to face the consequences if someone finds out.”

“Alright, so what is it?” Sirius asked, and Andromeda sighed. 

“Dumbledore wants you to make sure that Harry’s not doing anything suspicious while he’s here.”

“That’s it? And why Harry?”

“Yes, that’s it, and I have no idea. I wasn’t told  _ why _ , just what and how to tell it.”

“Harry’s leaving with his godfather for the United States in a week and a half, though,” Sirius remembered. 

“Dumbledore knows, and has talked to Peter about that. He’ll keep an eye on him while he’s there.”

“I see. So I’m just having to watch him for a week and a half, but not let it be known to him. Piece of cake.” Sirius ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you have an excuse for me to tell everyone else in the household?”

“That Dumbledore has something for you to do in two weeks, something top secret. While it will put the fact that you’re a member of the Order on Harry’s radar, he won’t be expecting you to be doing it  _ now _ .”

“So, I have to be discreet about watching my godson’s brother from everyone else, while telling them that my mood changes are due to the mission I’m going to do in two weeks. Sounds good.” Andromeda nodded, then added,

“Do not fail.” 

###

“Skeeter! I need you in my office for a minute,” Rita’s boss hollered, and she dutifully got up and went to her office. 

“What do you want, Lisa?” Rita asked, and Lisa smiled.

“Apparently Dumbledore made a proclamation saying that Voldemort is coming back at the end-of-year feast at Hogwarts. I want you to find out everything you can about this story.”

“Why me?”

“Why, Rita, you’re one of our most talented writers! Why  _ wouldn’t _ I give it to you?” 

“So, I need to ask the kids and get some sort of consensus on what he said?”

“Yes, that’s it. You need to ask the teachers, too, but you’ll figure all that out, I’m sure.”

“Of course.”

“Oh, and Rita?”

“Yes?”

“Do not fail.”


	2. Chapter 1: Home! Home. Home?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, work has gotten in the way of writing. :( But, I hope you like this chapter!

###  Chapter 1: Home! Home. Home?

When Dylan woke, he was excited, since Ron and Parvati were coming over that day. 

_ I’ll get to play Quidditch with Ron, and practice spells with both of them, and it’ll be great! _ he thought, then remembered that Harry was going to be practicing some spells outside, and grimaced. He knew that while Harry wasn’t Dark, he was definitely not the best person to be around - and also good at nothing but Potions, compared to Dylan’s skill for offensive spells, and even to Kristina’s skill for Charms and other spells. 

_ He’s basically worthless - Potions are so limited and can do very little when compared with actual  _ spells _ ,  _ Dylan knew.  _ Of course, he’s also antisocial, so there’s that too. We’ll just avoid him - that should be easy enough. He won’t want to be by us any more than we’ll want to be by him, so that shouldn’t be a problem.  _

Dylan got up and did his morning routine, and then went downstairs for breakfast.

“Oh, hello, Dylan,” his father said, looking up from his cup of coffee. “You’re up early.”

“I’m just excited about Ron and Parvati coming over. What’s for breakfast?”

“Your mother made eggs, and then left to go to the store to get more groceries.”

“Ok. Where are they?”

“On the stove.” Dylan went over and got his breakfast, then began to eat, all the while imagining what having his friends over would be like, for the first time since Christmas.

###

Dylan watched Ron and Parvati cast spells that he’d shown them, and noticed that Ron’s spells had much more power than Parvati’s, but Parvati’s were more controlled and accurate. The difference was obvious in the condition of their respective practice dummies that Dylan’s dad had conjured. 

Ron’s dummies were generally unscathed until he hit them with a spell, like  _ Incendio _ , at which point they would burn up, explode into splinters, or do some other such thing that would destroy them. Parvati’s, on the other hand, were destroyed with three or four spells in a row, most of which hit - in fact, Dylan had only seen her miss once out of what had to be at least twenty spells. It also seemed she was conserving her energy better than Ron, who was breathing hard as he roared,

“ _ Incendio _ !” Dylan noticed the spell fly into the shield that his dad had also (thankfully) set up, and get absorbed by it. Ron dropped to the ground, holding himself up with one arm and clutching his abdomen with the other arm’s hand. 

“Ron, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m - fine, I - think,” Ron panted, and Parvati stopped casting. 

“Can’t you tell when you’re going to use up too much of your strength?” she asked, and Ron glared at her. 

“Yes, of course I can!”

“Then why did you do it?” Ron glanced to the side, and then back at Parvati.

“Because I wanted to see what would happen if I did!” 

“Liar.” Parvati crossed her arms. “You didn’t know that it was going to happen, sure, but you also didn’t know that you were using too much of your strength.”

“You think I’m lying?” Ron yelled, outraged, and stood up. “I just wanted to see what would happen - that’s it! I knew I was running out, but I didn’t know what would happen when I ran out! Get off my case!” Dylan knew that he should probably step in, since Parvati’s face was set in a grim line and Ron’s was just angry. Except that he didn’t know what to do. 

“Alright, you two,” Dylan began, and paused. He had thought about what to say, but still didn’t really know what to. “Ron, don’t yell. Parvati, it’s not a big deal -”

“It  _ is _ a big deal - if he’s using magic and can’t tell how much he has, that could prove fatal some day when he tries a powerful spell!”

“I told you, I  _ can _ do it - I just wanted to know what would happen when I ran out!”

“ _ Both _ of you need to calm down,” Kristina said, and Dylan turned to face her, Padma by her side. “Ron, it’s ok to not be able to tell how much magic you have left, but it’s not ok to yell. Parvati, it’s not your problem, it’s his. You can tell him what you think, but confronting him like this isn’t a great way to go about it.” Dylan glanced at Ron and Parvati, both of whom were looking at Kristina with a mix of dislike and respect. 

“I guess that’s true,” Parvati said, looking away and turning to Ron. “Ron, if you ever need to practice with how much magic you have left, come and talk to me. I’ve read books about it, and they worked for me.”

“I told you, I  _ knew _ what I was doing -” Dylan sighed and decided to let Kristina sort it out. She was doing a much better job of it than him.

###

Kristina sighed as she and Padma went back into the house. She hated unnecessary conflict - and conflict pretty much as a whole - and so tried to stop it. On the other hand, it frustrated her that she seemed to be the only one capable of resolving conflict around her house - and that no one else even tried. In fact, everyone around her house except her seemed to enjoy creating conflict - Harry did, Dylan did, her dad did, her mom did (less than the others, but still). It was enough to make her angry, but she didn’t start any conflict because it would be counter-productive. 

Instead, Kristina resolved to be with her friends and wait her anger out while having fun. It worked, so she didn’t see a reason to change it. 

“Kristina, I have to go back home now,” Padma said, and Kristina remembered that her friend had a piano lesson in fifteen minutes, and her parents felt that social activities shouldn’t get in the way of that. 

“Alright, it’s been great having you over,” Kristina said, wondering how she’d calm down if Padma was gone. “Come over again sometime, ok?”

“Of course.” Padma gave Kristina a hug, which she returned, and then went over to the fireplace. She threw in a pinch of Floo powder and stepped in, saying, “ _ Lux de Caelo _ !” Kristina watched her disappear, going back to her home, which was an ancient Pureblood home that the Patils had acquired because of a Light Pureblood line that had gone extinct. The Patils had been good friends of the last wizard in that line, and he had given it to them in his will. 

_ Now, what do I do? I could go read - or I could talk to Harry about his problems with Mum and Dad. He’s probably not doing anything important, so I’ll do that and then go read. I still have half of that Defense book left, and I need to practice a few of the spells that I’ve already learned too. I won’t be angry once I go back downstairs. No chance that I’ll be once I read for a while.  _

###

Harry was in his room, as he often was, reading a book that would be perfectly acceptable for him to read, from his parents’ perspective. It was  _ The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 _ \- one that held spells he’d already mastered or had almost mastered, and few that he didn’t know. 

The only reason he was reading it was because he didn’t want to know the consequences if his parents - or anyone, really - came in and saw him reading a book that was above his grade level. His careful façade of being the average student would be shattered, at least in his parents’ eyes. He was only above average in Potions, where he was at the top of the class. Harry didn’t want to think about what would happen if Dylan or Kristina told his parents about the spell he used against the troll. 

_ If they knew I know, let alone have used, a Dark spell as powerful as that, they’d report that to Dumbledore. He’d probably put a block on my ambition and anger again, this time making extra sure that nothing could end it. And then I’d never be free again.  _

There came a knock at the door, and Harry said,

“Who is it?”

“It’s Kristina.” The voice was neutral, and Harry was immediately wary, even if it was his favorite family member. Toneless voices meant people could be hiding something, and even if they weren’t, it still meant something was wrong.

“...Come in,” Harry said, after a slight pause. The door opened, and Kristina walked in.

“Why are the curtains drawn?” she asked, blinking her eyes in the near-darkness, with only a little light filtering through the curtains into the room. “And how are you reading something in this darkness?”

“My eyes, while terrible, can apparently see well enough in the dark,” Harry said dryly. “Now, what do you want?” 

“Right to the point, aren’t you?” Kristina commented, but continued on after shutting the door. “I want to know why you’re leaving with your godfather in a week. Why aren’t you staying?”

“Because Mum and Dad hate me for the friends I’ve made, and think I’m somehow becoming evil because of that - ever since I went into Slytherin,” Harry said bitterly, which he didn’t have to fake at all. “They let you and Dylan bring your friends here whenever you want, but the one time I asked if I could bring Draco over or go to his house, they freaked out. Something about ‘no Death Eaters in our house’ or something along those lines?” Kristina looked grim, and Harry knew she’d heard that argument. Hermione and Dylan had too, since Kristina and them had been in the next room eating when Harry had brought it up in the sitting room. 

“Don’t you think that you should try to understand their perspective? After all, they grew up knowing that they would be soldiers in the war, so it makes sense that they’d think of a Death Eater’s son as a potential threat -”

“It might make sense, but so does a paranoid person making a tinfoil hat. Does that mean it’s rational?” Kristina opened her mouth, but Harry continued before she could speak. “No. I won’t stay in a house where such irrationality is present - they’re as bad as the blood purists thinking that they’re entitled to judge someone just because of their lineage. For a group of people that they hate, they sure are alike.”

“I thought it’d be enough for you to just stay in your room -”

“Kristina, do you know how tense I am when I hear footsteps coming close to the door that sound like Mum or Dad’s? Do you know how bad meals are? No, because you’re looking at this from your privileged perspective of someone who got sorted into Ravenclaw and whose friends are from Light or Muggle families. I only have friends from Dark families, and most of their parents were Death Eaters.”

“You can’t understand this, Kristina,” Harry continued. “Don’t try to convince me out of doing something that I know is the right choice.”

“But if you tried harder, maybe you and Mum and Dad could make up -”

“Yes,  _ maybe _ we could. Or maybe we’d just stay like this for the entire summer, and it would get worse and worse as the fact that I have friends who have Dark families sunk in even more, and they’d maybe even try to stop me from writing to them.”

“...Why can’t you be back for our birthday?” Kristina asked, and Harry felt his heart wrench. He hoped that she wouldn’t say anything else, but she went on, saying, “We’ve spent all of ours together, so why should this year be any different?”

“Why should anything change?” Harry said, masking the pain he felt at not being able to celebrate their birthday with Kristina. “Why should we do  _ anything _ differently?”

“Harry...” Kristina trailed off, and then bit her bottom lip and left, closing the door softly behind her. 

_ Shit. I hope that I didn’t hurt her too bad. But on the other hand, if she holds me back from freedom, then is she worth it? _

_ She’s the one person who’s been nice to me in my immediate family - she will be worth it until she betrays me by siding with Dylan.  _

_ But she might hold me back from freedom! _

_ Until the day she betrays me, she’ll be my only  _ real _ family.  _

_ So, should I apologize? Probably. I’ll apologize before I go. I will. _

###

Harry was reading a book in the sitting room, absorbed in the standard third year Potions curriculum. He was seated in an armchair in the corner, only barely attentive to the interactions going on in the next room between Kristina, Padma, and Dylan. 

“Harry, can I talk to you for a minute?” Hermione asked, coming over and looking down at him. 

“Yes. Where would you like to do so?” Harry replied, turning the page and continuing to read. 

“Outside, probably,” Hermione said, and Harry nodded, shutting his book after memorizing the page number, and following her out the back door, avoiding the argument that his two siblings and Padma were having. It was about something trivial, like whether or not Dylan should be able to practice spells at night. Harry wondered why his parents weren’t intervening, and then remembered that they’d gone out to shop for groceries. 

Once they reached a place that Hermione seemed to find suitable enough, which was the woods behind the house, Harry asked,

“So what is this all about?”

“I want to know the reason you’re leaving.”

“Did Kristina put you up to this? Because I’ve already had this conversation with her,” Harry said. 

“No, but strange as it may be, Kristina and I  _ aren’t _ the same person,” Hermione said, and Harry conceded,

“That’s true. I’m leaving because this house is toxic to me, and I can’t just stay here the entire summer without going insane.”

“Does it have anything to do with what happened when you faced Voldemort?” Hermione asked. “You seem different now than you did before then.” Harry felt his heart skip a beat, and thought,

_ Shit! If  _ she’s _ seen that something’s wrong, then what are Mum and Dad thinking? Do they already suspect? _

“I... saw how inadequate I was when I faced him,” Harry lied - or was it lying, if all the things he was saying were technically true? “He took me down with a stunner, and I couldn’t do anything against his shields, even if I hadn’t been stunned. Voldemort was too powerful, and I couldn’t stop him from taking the Stone. Now there’s going to be another war - all because I couldn’t do  _ anything _ to stop him.”

“Harry...” Hermione trailed off. “Kristina told me about a spell that you used against the troll that you fought. I looked it up.” Harry felt his heart skip another beat, and let her continue while trying not to give anything away. “Why do you know a Dark spell like the Claw of Darkness?”

“Is it that bad if I was using it to try and stop Voldemort from getting the Stone?” Harry asked. “I think that Dark and Light are dumb distinctions, ones that lazy people use to categorize things they don’t completely understand. I used a Dark spell because it was a powerful one that I knew, and I knew it because I found a book that had it in it. I practiced it so that if a situation like the one that happened with the troll arose, I could have a spell in my arsenal that would be able to help get through it.”

“You’re smart, Hermione, so do you really think that just because one entity says something is one way means that it is without doubt that way?” Hermione looked shocked, and she replied,

“No, but it seems like a fairly destructive spell -”

“And the spell Dylan used, the  _ Splendor Ignis _ spell, isn’t? That’s some powerful fire, Hermione - what good is it for anything other than destruction?”

“I suppose you don’t want me to tell your parents that you’ve used it, though.” Harry narrowed his eyes before he could stop himself, and then nodded slowly. 

“They’d be irrational about it. At least I can trust you to be rational.” 

_ A little flattery never hurt anything. _

“I guess. I won’t tell them, but please don’t go Dark, alright? It’d be sad if you did.” Hermione turned and walked back to the house, leaving Harry dumbfounded. 

_ Why would it be sad for her? It’s not like it’s  _ her _ family that would be in conflict with each other - but maybe it is.  _

_ If she only has her Muggle parents, maybe she sees  _ us _ as her magical family. And she probably wouldn’t want that to be torn apart. _

_ But my freedom is important, and the Dark is the only one that will give that to me. I’m sorry Hermione, but I will go Dark - though you have a little time before it becomes obvious. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's the first chapter proper of Sacrifice So We Do Not Fail. Stay tuned and subscribe, leave kudos, all that good stuff!


	3. Interlude 1: Dumbledore is "Completely Deluded"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, work's made this whole writing thing hard. But never fear, I will keep going with this! Have an interlude, and I'll try to have the next chapter proper up in a week or less.

### Interlude 1: Dumbledore is “Completely Deluded”

**_ The Daily Prophet _ **

_June 19, 1992_

**_ALBUS DUMBLEDORE IS “COMPLETELY DELUDED”, MINISTER SAYS_ **

_By Rita Skeeter_

_In an exclusive interview with Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, The Daily Prophet has been told that Albus Dumbledore’s end-of-year speech shows that the Headmaster is “completely deluded” Minister Fudge said. “The Philosopher’s Stone has been lost for centuries, and its recipe even longer. Coming out and saying that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will come back because he has acquired an artifact that no longer exists is simply proof that he is not thinking correctly, and I will endeavor to remove him as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot until he regains his mental faculties.” _

_The Light Lord’s speech at the end of the year claimed that You-Know-Who had acquired the Philosopher’s Stone, and was going to return to life. Many have expressed skepticism about this being possible after Dylan Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, killed him by reflecting You-Know-Who’s killing curse._

_“I don’t think You-Know-Who can come back from the dead any more than my father can,” Destia Flowey, one of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, said. “And I assure you, my father is not coming back. I don’t think that Albus Dumbledore should be allowed around children to spread his paranoid lies.”_

_Others have expressed support for the Light Lord, like Molly Weasley, who said, “I think that the Headmaster knows what he’s talking about and that we should trust him when he says that You-Know-Who is coming back.”_

_Many also wonder how Headmaster Dumbledore acquired the information, which was not specified in his end-of-year speech._

_“I don’t know how he would even know, unless he’s the one it was stolen from,” Nataliya Zabini, a parent of a student at Hogwarts, said. “And shouldn’t he have told the public he had it, if he did? It’s obvious that the Headmaster fabricated this entire story.”_

_The Wizengamot is holding a private vote on whether or not to remove Albus Dumbledore as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot tomorrow._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, there's the interlude! I hope I'll have another chapter soon. In the meantime, please leave kudos, comment, subscribe - all that good stuff! Thank you all for reading!


	4. Interlude 2: The Summer Solstice

### Interlude 2: The Summer Solstice

Albus Dumbledore walked out of Hogwarts, mood still heavy with his near-removal from the Wizengamot the previous day. The only reason he had managed to stay on was because Fudge hadn’t been able to sway enough of the Wizengamot into believing that Albus was a danger - but it was a near thing.

_And even with those who did not vote against me, I am still not believed, even though Tom_ is _coming back,_ he thought. _I am not enough to fight against him, this time - I will need the Potter siblings to assist me, seeing as the prophecy said they would be three of the most powerful wizards of their time. And if one of them goes to the Dark, as the prophecy said might happen, then I do not know what the Light will do._

However, Albus knew that the solstice ritual would lift his spirits, as being with the Light always did. He went to the ritual circle he had prepared the previous day, and stood in the middle of it. It was a pentagram, as many ritual circles were, with the points representing the four elements, in addition to the one at the top, which symbolized the Light - though it would have symbolized the Dark had he been a Dark wizard. As a Light Lord, Albus had to give his respects to the Light first - though many did do regardless - and then pay respects to the elements if he wanted to. He would be doing all five, and knew that the ritual circle would keep any meddling influences out.

“ _Lumen Mundo Usquam,_ ” he said, beginning the ritual. It was not a spell, though it was in Latin, and many would mistake it for one. It was more of a prayer, and as he closed his eyes, he felt the Light shining on and inside him, touching his very soul.

“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you are troubled. May the Light guide you on your path.” Albus knew that the voice was a messenger of the Light, sent to guide his consciousness to the Light. “Do you serve the Light?”

“I do.”

“Do you obey the Light?”

“I do.”

“Will you always be a Light, to yourself and others?”

“I will.”

“Then you may enter, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,” the messenger said, and Albus felt his consciousness blaze with the Light’s presence.

“ **Welcome, my child,”** the Light said. **“What is your question this year, for the good of the world?”**

“O Light, I wish to know what state of being the Dark Lord Voldemort is in,” Albus said.

“ **My child, the Dark Lord Voldemort, who opposes you, is still attached to the body of Quirinus Quirrell at this moment. He has not regained his physical form.”**

“Thank you, O Light. What is your mission for me this year, O Light?”

“ **Do not take actions that allow yourself to lose any more political power than you already have. Make certain you have all the power you can when it comes time to face the Dark.”**

“I hear and obey, O Light,” Albus said.

“ **Good.** _ **Valeo**_ **.”** The Light’s presence faded from Albus’s mind, leaving him once again to contemplate the wonder of the Light and its gifts.

###

“Dylan, Kristina, are you both ready?” Dylan’s dad asked them. Dylan nodded and saw Kristina do the same. “Then let’s go.” Dylan looked back to the house and felt a tinge of suspicion that Harry had left before the ritual, but knew his parents would say that Uncle Peter would one with him, but followed his parents to the far side of the field next to the house.

This summer solstice ritual was the first Dylan had ever done, since it was apparently a tradition to do it once the children finished their first year of school in the Potter family. He was excited to see what the ritual was like, and hoped he wouldn’t forget his words or mess up.

“Dylan, do you remember your part?” Kristina whispered, and Dylan hissed back,

“Of course I do, do you?”

“Of course -”

“Dylan, Kristina, come over here and help us set up the ritual sigil!” his mother said, and Dylan complied, beginning to sketch out the circles that each of the family members would stand in, in addition to the one in the center that was for the Light.

The ritual sigil was a square, or a diamond, depending on the angle, with circles at each of the corners and lines connecting each circle to its two adjacent ones and to the circle in the center. Each corner-circle represented a different one of the four elements, and the center circle represented the Light. Dylan had chosen the fire circle, and his father had chosen the earth one. His mother had taken the air one, and Kristina had taken the water one. His parents would be opposite each other, and Kristina and he would be opposite to each other as well.

“Stand in your circles, Dylan, Kristina,” Dylan’s dad said, and they both complied. “We’ll go in order - is everyone ready?” Everyone nodded, and Dylan’s dad chanted, “O Light, on this day of your greatest power, let us give thanks for the prosperity that your reign has given humanity, and especially what it has given us.”

“Let us stay strong like the stone and the earth on which we stand,” Dylan’s father continued. “May we always look to you, O Light, for guidance when we do not know what to do.”

“Let us be nurturers of others and ourselves, like the water that allows us all to live,” Kristina said. “May we always look to you, O Light, for guidance when we do not know what to do.”

“Let us move freely to do what is right, like the wind that we feel and the air that we breathe,” Dylan's mother said. “May we always look to you, O Light, for guidance when we do not know what to do.”

“Let our the strength of our convictions burn brightly like a flame that keeps us warm, and be a light to all around us,” Dylan said. “May we always look to you, O Light, for guidance when we do not know what to do.”

“ _Fiat Lux_!” Dylan and the others cried, pointing their wands at the center of the ritual sigil. Pure Light, brighter than anything Dylan had ever seen before, brighter than the sun, shone from the center, but Dylan found he couldn’t look away.

_This is... beautiful..._ Dylan thought, gazing in wonder. _I cannot understand why anyone would choose the Dark over this pure, beautiful Light..._ Dylan felt a voice in his head say,

“Dylan James Potter, are you loyal to the Light?”

“I am.” Dylan felt no reason not to answer truthfully, and the voice asked another question.

“Do you wish for the power to protect, to defend the world from evil and Darkness?”

“I do.”

“Then the Light will grant you a blessing.” Dylan realized that he was no longer in the ritual sigil, but instead in a palace of shining white marble. Columns rose from the ground up into the sky, into the clouds, and there were no shadows anywhere he looked. He saw a throne of pure gold, with a griffin on it, majestically colored white and gold.

“O Light, what must I do for your blessing?” Dylan asked, kneeling. Somehow he knew exactly what to do, and felt that he remembered something from some place, but put it out of his mind.

“ **Dylan James Potter, you need do no more than you are now. Stay loyal to the Light, protect the world from the Dark, and do not forsake the ones you hold dear.”** The voice of the griffin - somehow he knew it was, though it didn’t move or open its mouth - was impossibly powerful, but it felt somehow like a peaceful song. **“In return, you shall receive a Blessing of the Light - a Blessing that will allow you to see the color of anyone’s magic when you wish to. It is called The Iris. Use it well.”** Dylan saw the palace fading away, and felt tears of joy from talking to the Light itself.

###

Parvati Patil stood in the ritual circle opposite her mother, inside one of four squares on the edges. Her family wasn’t doing an element affinity ritual, as many families did, but a gradient power ritual - one where the one with the least power started the ritual, and the one with the most ended it. That meant that her sister, Padma, would start, followed by Parvati, then her father, and finally her mother.

“Is everyone ready?” Parvati’s mother asked, and everyone nodded. “Then begin, Padma.”

“I, as one who faces the Light, am the fourth strongest of the four of us gathered,” Padma said shakily, and Parvati felt the ritual circle snap into existence. There was a distant hum in her ears, and Padma continued. “I give some of my power to assist the Light today, and I do so willingly.” Padma pointed her wand to the center and up, so that it was at a 45 degree angle with the ground. Parvati saw pure Light coming out of it, a line of power that began to coalesce into a cord.

“I, as one who faces the Light, am the third strongest of the four of us gathered,” Parvati said, not letting her anxiety into her voice. “I give some of my power to assist the Light today, and I do so willingly.” Parvati pointed her wand to the center and up, just as Padma had done, and felt the Light in her glow. The glow flowed out of her wand and into the air, a cord forming and twisting around Padma’s cord.

Parvati felt a surge of emotion in her, making tears fall down her face inexplicably and making her want to laugh. It felt like nostalgia, like she’d been alive for millennia and was recalling the moments that had gone and that would never be back. It was all she could do to keep her wand pointing where it was.

“I, as one Declared to the Light, am the second strongest of the four of us gathered,” Parvati’s father was saying. “I give some of my power to assist the Light today, and I do so gladly.” Parvati saw more Light through her teary eyes.

“I, as one Declared to the Light, am the strongest of the four of us gathered,” Parvati’s mother said. “I give some of my power to assist the Light today, and I do so with pride!” The emotions running through Parvati abruptly stopped when the Light above the ritual circle shot up to the sky and rained down in tiny sparkles over them and everything Parvati could see.

“The Light is beautiful...” she trailed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I know I haven't been updating recently, but I'll try to do more. Thank you for all your support!


	5. Chapter 2: America

###  Chapter 2: America

Harry was in Uncle Peter’s apartment in New York City, looking around at the various Muggle devices in it. 

“Uncle Peter, what's this?” Harry asked, pointing to a black box with two thin metal rods coming out of it and a glass front.

“Oh, that’s a television. It’s like a radio, but it shows pictures  _ and _ sound. Isn’t it neat?”

“Why don’t we have one at my house?”

“Because your parents don’t think it’s that useful. And it isn’t, it’s really only good for wasting time. You can watch TV shows about crime investigation - oh, and they’re all Muggle shows by the way - fantasy ones, ones about everyday life drama, and so on.” 

“Sounds interesting, I guess,” Harry said, still looking around at everything. 

“Like I said, good for wasting time. So, let me show you around.” Uncle Peter gave Harry the tour of the apartment, where he explained the Muggle devices as well as why they were there. 

“The reason the Muggle devices are here is because the magical centers here are the Magic Skyways - skyways between the skyscrapers. We live in the Muggle world, and do business and work in the Magic Skyways.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

“Well, when the Europeans came to colonize and conquer the ‘New World’, the original wizard-Muggle harmony that existed in Native American tribes was destroyed by disease and violence. The Native American Muggles blamed their wizards for not being able to protect them, and that created a divide that exists to this day. The Europeans already had divisions between wizards and Muggles, and so the system in America is the one of Europeans, but since there were no previous exclusively wizard areas, most wizards here live amongst Muggles. The Magic Skyways have only been around since the 1930s - before that it was mostly secret meetings in homes. Which led to not very much contact, except for the three major regional schools that wizarding children go to.”

“What are the schools?”

“The east coast’s school is called Nova Luna, which is Latin for new moon, so called because the early settlers thought the moon was different than the one in Europe. The Midwest’s school is Open Magic Academy, called so because it accepted Muggleborns at the time of its inception - something Nova Luna didn’t do. And the last, for the west coast, is called Luz del Sol, a Light-wizard only establishment at the time it was founded. Now it cares less about the Light and Dark and more about banning dangerous rituals.”

“The United States has three major schools?” Harry asked, incredulous. “Why?”

“Because the States are quite big compared to most European countries, both in landmass and population. There’s other schools in the UK, but they’re not as prominent or as good as Hogwarts. There’s also other schools in the States, but basically no one attends them, compared to the good half of wizarding-born children attending alternative schools in Europe.”

_ I wonder if I’d like going to school in the States - maybe, but I wouldn’t have Draco, _ Harry thought. 

“So, what do you want for dinner? There’s a bunch of restaurants in the Magic Skyways. I’ll treat you, come on!” Uncle Peter showed Harry out the door, and locked it with a flick of his wand. 

###

Wizarding New York City was much different than the London Underground, Harry discovered quickly. Looking out the windows of the Skyways allowed one to see that clouds, and Harry felt ill at ease with the knowledge that the Skyways were high, high above the ground and that if the magic failed, he and the rest of wizarding New York City would fall and die. 

“Stop looking out the windows, you’ll feel better once you’re inside some stores,” Uncle Peter said. “This way we have Vertic Alley...” Harry allowed himself to be led to a building which had a number of elevators in it. “It’s called Vertic Alley, but it’s more of a skyscraper... in the sky.” Uncle Peter and Harry went into an elevator and Uncle Peter pressed the button for the 3rd floor.

“It has a few stores on each floor, but the one I want to show you is on the third,” Uncle Peter said. “After that we’ll eat, alright?”

“Sure,” said Harry, and waited for the elevator to stop. He still wasn't used to them, this being the third time he’d been in one.

“Alright, on this floor there’s other stores, but the one we want is called  _ Silas’ Fine Robes _ .” Uncle Peter led Harry to the entrance, which was a doorway wide enough to fit four regular doors, and pointed at the mannequins with different colored robes on. “In America, people wear robes for work and school, as well as formal occasions, like in Britain. The difference is that black is not the only acceptable color - many people dress in solid colors other than that with black trim, like solid red, green, blue, or purple for work and school, not just formal occasions.”

“Why?” Harry asked, looking around at all the different colors. 

“Because it’s more exciting. What color of robes would you like me to buy you?”

“Green, because red and blue are my siblings’ colors, and I don't like purple,” Harry said.

“But do you like green?” Uncle Peter asked, and Harry thought about it. 

“Yeah, I do. It’s nice. Like a forest.”

“Then let’s go and get you measured for that, and for other school robes. You'll need more, right? Since you've grown.” Harry nodded, and Uncle Peter smiled. “Then follow me.”

###

After getting a set of green robes and three sets of regular black ones and putting them in Uncle Peter’s bag that was smaller on the outside than the inside, Harry sat down with Uncle Peter at a Chinese restaurant in the skyway that apparently existed in the Muggle world too. 

“How do they tell the Muggle company where the money's coming from?” asked Harry. 

“Very carefully.” Uncle Peter’s face was deadpan, but then it cracked. “No, they operate using the same ingredients and recipes as the Muggle ones, but are a separate corporation. One that is, in fact, moderately taxed by the United States Wizarding Government, as well as New York’s Wizard Congress.”

“Wait, they tax companies here?” Harry asked, and Uncle Peter laughed.

“Yes, and they do it in Britain too. In fact, the taxes are higher in Britain, because the Ministry's corrupt and trying to rebuild from the war, still. The Federal Wizarding Congress, or FWC, is corrupt too, but not as much - and the corruption’s the opposite in the Muggle world, so I guess it all balances out.”

“I never knew...”

“Well, you don't know that there’s sales tax in Britain because it has to be included as part of the list price, you don't know about income tax because you’re a dependent - a kid, basically - and you don't know about business tax because you don't run a business.”

“Wow.” Harry was at a loss for words. “How do they make sure they get that money?”

“Same way they do everywhere else - there are steps along the way, but the last step is always the use of force.”

“What do you mean by that?” Harry was confused by the statement, and Uncle Peter explained with a sigh.

“I forgot that you're only almost 12. I mean that you'll be fined, you'll be required to do community service, but if you don't do any of that, you'll be arrested forcefully - if you commit a crime. And remember, Harry - not all crimes are wrong and not all wrong things are crimes.”

_ Really? I mean - does that mean that even though I'm talking with Voldemort that I'm not necessarily doing something wrong? _

“I bet your parents taught you to obey the laws, right? Never mind what they are, just obey them, right?” Harry nodded slowly, and Uncle Peter smiled. “They're not necessarily wrong. But, there are going to be times when the right thing to do will be illegal, and the wrong thing to do will be legal. That's why you need to get your own moral compass, instead of having the laws do all the thinking for you.”

Harry nodded, still trying to process what his godfather was saying. 

“Ah, here’s the food! Harry, here’re your dumplings!” Harry took the plate of dumplings and watched Uncle Peter tear into his own soup. Gingerly, Harry tried one, and was somewhat shocked when it tasted good.

“This is good!” Harry said after he swallowed. 

“I know, right?” Harry and his godfather continued the meal until Harry finished his dumplings.  

“Are you ready to go now?” Uncle Peter asked. “I've already paid.” 

“Yeah, but I'm really full,” said Harry. 

“Get up - you'll walk it off.” The two got up, and Uncle Peter said, “I have work tomorrow. Do you want me to buy some books for you to read while I'm gone?”

“Sure!” Harry concealed his disdain for any books Uncle Peter would buy him with false excitement. 

“Alright, what do you know about Creature-Speaking?” Harry blinked.

“About what?”

“Alright, I’ll get you the beginner's guide to Creature-Speaking. It’s really quite fascinating, being able to talk to intelligent magical creatures.”

“Really? You can do that?”

“Well,  _ I  _ can't, but that's because I haven't put in the time to. There are all sorts of creatures you can talk to - like unicorns, griffins, dragons, snakes - even some birds. They have to have some amount of intelligence, but if they communicate with each other, a human can learn to as well. Come on, let's go!” 

Uncle Peter tugged Harry to the bookstore, making a few onlookers raise eyebrows, but once they got there, he let go. 

“In America, we have more books than in Britain, seeing as the Dark wizards have more influence here. That means that while the more dangerous books are banned, the more benign Dark ones are still legal.”

“Why do the Dark wizards have more influence?” Harry asked. 

“Because in Europe, they have Grindelwald - and Voldemort - to point to as examples that Dark magic is bad. No Dark wizard has started a revolution in North America since before the Europeans came here. South America has some examples, but they care less about the Dark-Light duality and more about what's dangerous and what's not.”

“I'm probably boring you, aren't I?” Harry shook his head - he found what Uncle Peter was saying fascinating - but his godfather laughed. “Regardless, let's get you some books.”

_ Why is Uncle Peter saying things that make it sound like not all Dark magic is bad? I would’ve thought that he thought the same as Dumbledore and Mum and Dad.  _

In the end, Harry got four books:  _ An Introduction to Creature-Speaking _ , by Hilda Bolt;  _ A Historical Analysis of the Differences Between Western Europe and North America _ , by Eru Takahashi;  _ Dark and Light: A Never-Ending Battle - Or is It? _ , by Claire Zocalo; and  _ Paramilitary Organizations of the 20th Century _ , by Liselotte Artel. 

“Thanks, Uncle Peter,” Harry said, genuinely.  _ These are books that aren't obviously Dark, but look like they'd be interesting.  _

“Oh, you're welcome. You're my godson - if I don't get you a few books, I’m not doing it right.” Uncle Peter gave a quick grin, and went to the elevator. “Say goodbye to Vertic Alley - we’re going back to the apartment.” Harry nodded, and went into the elevator when it opened. 

_ This was great - and it’s only my first day! _

###

Harry was engrossed in his book when he heard the door open, and saw Uncle Peter walk in, looking extremely tired. 

“Uncle Peter, how was your meeting? Was it hard?” Harry asked, and Uncle Peter smiled. 

“Yes, it was tiring, and hard, but it was worth it. Many things that are worth it aren’t easy, Harry - remember that.”

“I will.” There was a pause as Uncle Peter took his shoes off, and then he said,

“What do you want to do when you grow up, Harry?” Harry blinked. 

_ I want to be free - but what does that look like? Will I have a job? Will I have a family, or kids?  _

_ Well, I want Dumbledore to not try to control me, but -  _ Harry felt the water draining from the pond that held the rock of his anger, and willed it to fill back up.  _ I can’t get angry here. Not with Uncle Peter.  _

_ If I want to not be controlled, then I need to have a job that allows me enough freedom.  _

“I... don’t know what I want to do,” Harry said. “I haven’t thought of it that much.”

“That’s alright - I didn’t know what I wanted to do until after the war, except survive. That’s how war is - it takes everyone’s dreams away and makes them focus on surviving. But sometimes, war is the only way to make dreams come true.”

“How so?” Harry asked, frowning. “How can war make dreams come true?”

“Harry, there is something called stagnancy,” Uncle Peter began, going to the other comfy chair and reclining in it. 

_ Stagnancy... The books comparing the Light and Dark philosophies talked about that!  _ Harry remembered.  _ I read them at Malfoy Manor!  _

“Some dreams mean things have to change, and war is the last, most desperate method of changing things. When neither good intentions, nor convincing words, nor peaceful action can change something, violent action - war - is the last resort.”

“An example of this happened in France, in the French Revolution. At the same time the Muggles were executing all the nobility and rich, the Dark French wizards were overthrowing the Light French wizards - in a similar fashion to the Muggles.”

“Why did they overthrow the Light wizards? Aren’t the Light wizards supposed to be good?” Harry asked, concealing his true beliefs.

“Light doesn’t necessarily mean good - it means you feel closest to the Light side of magic.”

“What do you mean, about the ‘Light side of magic’?” Harry said. 

“There are emotions that each of the sides make their users feel, to some extent. Light magic is usually love, gratitude, and joy, while Dark magic is hope and anger.”

“Why would anyone want to be angry?” Harry said, frowning. 

_ Hope and anger seem like two completely unrelated emotions to have - how can you have hope when you’re angry? _

“There are some reasons that I won’t get into right now. Anyway, in the French Revolution, the Dark wizards had tried to get equity for themselves, but the Light wizards kept them out of the decision-making circles. They took action at the same time the Muggles were overthrowing their government - the French wizarding and Muggle worlds are much more connected than in the U.K.”

“The Dark wizards had a dream of equity, and to realize that dream, war needed to happen. An upheaval, if you will. And that is the point I was trying to make - that sometimes dreams can be made possible by things normally regarded as bad.” 

“Oh, ok.” Harry nodded thoughtfully, and then asked, “What’s for dinner?”

###

Harry was reading a book Uncle Peter had gotten him about the emotional aspects of Light and Dark magic, and had been doing so for the past three hours.

_ “And so, through extensive research, Minerva McGonagall of the United Kingdom determined that transfiguration magic relied on both love and hope, and declared transfiguration magic neutral in nature.” _

_ Wait, McGonagall did research on emotions? Well, it was for transfiguration, so it makes sense.  _

_ “Others have disputed this, citing that more recent texts show a different picture of the emotions used in transfiguration. These more recent works assert that transfiguration - and all neutral magic - is emotion-neutral, meaning it does not alter the emotional state of the caster.” _

_ “Still others believe that the more recent texts are only partially correct - that transfiguration and some other branches of magic quiet emotions in the user, meaning they take away emotional responses.” _

_ “Many recent research papers support this hypothesis, as many transfiguration users appeared more calm after using said magic. However, the integrity of these experiments is uncertain, given the lack of a double-blind operating procedure.” _

_ “In conclusion, all three possibilities assert that transfiguration is neutral - a widely accepted notion. The most widely accepted possibility is the second, where transfiguration is neutral and emotion-neutral.” _

Harry looked up from the book, squinting as he did so. 

_ That's really interesting - I never considered the possibility that different branches of magic could have an alignment. I always thought that magic was just magic, unless it was Light or Dark.  _

“Harry, dinner’s ready!” Uncle Peter called. 

“Be right there!” Harry called back, and bookmarked and closed his book. He went out of the guest room, which was currently his, and out to the dining room. 

“What were you doing?” asked Uncle Peter.

“I was just reading the emotions book you got me. You know, the one that talks about how Dark and Light emotions work through spells?”

“Ah, yes, _ Alignment of the Emotions _ , by Harriet DuPont? That's a good one - I'm glad they had it in stock.” Uncle Peter sat down and began to eat, while Harry did the same.

“Apparently one of my teachers has done research on it,” Harry said. 

“Which one?”

“McGonagall.”

“Not surprising - she was a firm believer that nothing was ever aligned unless it was intentionally aligned. I have some theories about why she keeps sticking to her own theories, particularly when they’re refuted.”

“Like? And what theories have been refuted?”

“It’s been proven that much of the potions branch can be classified as Dark, because it changes some things drastically, while some other parts are Light - like healing potions.”

“What's the criteria for deciding whether something's Light or Dark?”

“In the U.K. or elsewhere?”

“It’s different in other places?”

“Of course - the Light-controlled nations say something they don't like is Dark, and the Dark nations say something they don't like is Light.”

“What's the unbiased way?”

“A group of Canadian and Japanese wizards are trying to figure out a system that could be used internationally, but there is no unbiased system as of now. The Canadians are somewhat Dark and the Japanese are somewhat Light, so hopefully it should come out to fairly unbiased.”

“Wow...” Harry trailed off. “They've been doing this just based off of each country’s government's classification?”

“There are some basic guidelines, but they're not applicable to all spells. And even they get bent or broken, depending on the nation. Anyway, back to McGonagall: she wanted to make sure that everything was open to everyone - she’s always been more of a moderate Light witch. Yes, she followed Dumbledore, but that’s because she wanted things to stay the same, even if they weren’t the best. She doesn’t hate the Dark with the same passion as, say, Dumbledore - and loves the children above all else, and thinks they shouldn’t be constrained by arbitrary notions. She’s quite the idealist for her age.”

“I see.”

“She followed Dumbledore back during the War, and I think she’s glad she did. After all, who wouldn’t be glad to have been on the winning side?”

_ Is McGonagall an enemy, though, or not? If she loves the children, then surely she can’t endorse Dumbledore casting a emotion-controlling spell on me - right? It’s probably too early to say for certain, and revealing my intentions to anyone now could mean the end for my dream.  _

“Harry, you know that we’re leaving to go back and get your school supplies tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah...” Harry sighed, knowing that his time of bliss was at an end, and that he would have to go back to school soon. “It’s kinda sad, though - I like America.”

“I do too, it’s why I work here.” Uncle Peter smiled. “What do you want to do before we leave?”

“I think I’ve done everything I can hope to do,” Harry said with a smile. “I think I’d like to just rest so I can be ready to talk to my family.”

“That’s a good idea,” Uncle Peter said. “Get a good night’s sleep, and then we’ll go back tomorrow.”

“Oh, Uncle Peter?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Thank you so much. For bringing me here, and spending time with me, and everything. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, godson - I appreciated you coming here too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's been a while... I'm busy with school and such, as well as other projects that have caught my attention. I'll try to keep updating this, I swear!


	6. Interlude 3: Draco and Harry Write

###  Interlude 3: Draco and Harry Write

_ July 1st, 1992 _

_ Dear Harry, _

_ I hope this finds you well, and that you have left of your so-called “family’s” house, at least for a while. If you ever require a place to stay, know that Malfoy Manor is always open to you.  _

_ Father has been unusually secluded this summer for some reason. He rarely comes out, sometimes skipping meals. He seems lethargic most of the time, now - I do not know why. I am worried about him, but Mother says not to worry. I am fairly certain she is as well, but is trying not to be. He has also refused to visit St. Mungo’s, which is disturbing.  _

_ But enough about my father. I have been practicing healing spells, since we might have arrived  _ _ there _ _ faster had we not been held up by Weasley and his broken leg. I can heal small cuts now, which, while not much, is far,  _ _ far _ _ more than most second-years can do. And summer is not even halfway over yet, so I can improve even more. _

_ My Birthright seems to be getting easier to direct and more accurate - I do not know the cause, but I assume it is because of my practice with it. I also feel more agile when I am using it - I would ask Father, but as I have said, he is feeling ill.  _

_ Please write back, Harry - I yearn for social interaction. _

_ Draco L. Malfoy _

 

_ July 3rd, 1992 _

_ Dear Draco, _

_ I hope that your father gets better. I wish I knew what was wrong with him, but I’m not a mediwizard.  _

_ Uncle Peter has taken me to  _ _ so many _ _ places here in America, and it’s not even close to being over! There are so many restaurants here, almost all of them with good food - it’s remarkable. I wish you were here with us - although it’s a bit noisy, I think you’d enjoy the Magic Skyways and Vertic Alley. He’s also bought me quite a few interesting books - some about branches of magic I didn’t even know existed!  _

_ I wish I could practice combat spells, but Uncle Peter has made it clear that that won’t happen in his apartment or without his supervision. He’s also very busy with work, so taking me to a dueling court is almost entirely out of the question.  _

_ Thank you for writing, Draco - it’s nice to hear from you. _

_ Harry _

 

_ July 5th, 1992 _

_ Dear Harry,  _

_ I hope you find a way to keep up with your spell practice, otherwise I will be better than you, no questions asked. You must get your godfather to supervise some spell practice, because I want  _ _ real _ _ competition once I see you again.  _

_ What are these branches of magic that you speak of? I could perhaps lend you some books that have more depth to them about them, given that any books commercially available are likely to be far too general to be very helpful. Just say the word, and I will have them owled to you at once. _

_ Father seems to be getting better, if only a little. He eats more, but still shows few signs of recovery. I am extremely worried about him, still - if you find anything that could point towards a cure, or even a diagnosis, please send it to me with haste.  _

_ Your friend, _

_ Draco L. Malfoy _

 

_ July 8th, 1992 _

_ Dear Draco, _

_ Uncle Peter agreed to take me to a dueling center in Vertic Alley! We’re going tomorrow, and he says he’ll take a day off to teach me some spells. I’m very excited, and I will  _ _ not _ _ let you be better than me - it just won’t happen.  _

_ America is very interesting, but also strange. There are  _ _ so many _ _ people here, and the kinds of magic people study and that shops make a business in are so different than the ones back home. There was a shop I saw the other day that dealt in  _ _ Metallumancy _ _ \- they had all sorts of magic metal items, like bracelets that warded off a few spells that recharge by using ambient magic energy. It was very fascinating, although everything was far too expensive for me to buy.  _

_ I miss you, and I miss Hogwarts. I want to go back, even if Dylan’s gonna be there.  _

_ Your friend, _

_ Harry _

 

_ July 16th, 1992 _

_ Dear Harry, _

_ I miss you as well, and would also rather be back there with you in addition to your brother than here without you. I apologize for not getting back to you in a timely manner - other things conspired to make me have no energy for the thought required to write a good letter.  _

_ My father has gotten better, it seems. He is eating as normal and seems to be in good health again. We had a conversation about my studies, and he stressed that I study more to compensate for my poor skill in Herbology. I am not extremely pleased, but I will do it to make certain your brother and his Weasley stooge cannot best me at anything.  _

_ If you see something you find extremely fascinating, I will send you the money for it as a birthday present. Your birthday is July 30th, correct? If you do not request something, I will send a gift that I find as interesting as you.  _

_ Little has been going on - I yearn to hear of any exploits you have in America. _

_ Your friend, _

_ Draco L. Malfoy _

 

_ July 21st, 1992 _

_ Dear Draco, _

_ I’m sorry I didn’t respond quicker - I’ve been busy with my studies and dueling practice. Uncle Peter has taken me to the dueling center every day before he goes to work, and picks me up during his lunch break to get me lunch and then brings me back to the apartment. I’m usually extremely tired, and so I take a nap. I often dream about things important to me during these naps, and I’m considering consulting a Magus Somnia about it - I dream every time, without fail. It seems somewhat odd. _

_ I’ve had dreams about you, in fact. You’re often practicing spells with me, or reading books, or just sitting with me and relaxing. I wish I could see you, but the international Floo network is heavily regulated, according to Uncle Peter, but he couldn’t explain why. I yearn for someone to talk to, someone to connect with that’s my age. I’m not sure if you’ve interacted with any of our classmates, but I’ve had precious little contact with anyone from Hogwarts but you this summer.  _

_ Why do you feel like you need to get me a present? Your letters, your words, are gifts enough. _

_ Your friend, _

_ Harry _

 

_ July 25th, 1992 _

_ Dear Harry, _

_ I do not know anything about dreams - there are a few books in the Malfoy library on them, however, I have never read them. I could send them to you, though they may appear Dark to your ignorant family. It might be wise to wait until you return to Hogwarts for you to read them.  _

_ I am flattered that you have dreams about me. I have occasional dreams at night, and you are in many of them as well. No, I have not seen anyone from Hogwarts over the summer, except for Pansy and Millicent once. There was a social gathering of sorts for our parents, and we were left to amuse ourselves. I believe Blaise was there, along with his mother, though I could not tell you why. I have never seen them outside of school functions before, so I am wondering what the meeting was about - my parents refuse to inform me of the reason behind it.  _

_ I will get you a present because you deserve it. You deserve to have someone outside of your family give you a recognition that you are a spectacular person and friend - especially given that your family will likely only get you gifts out of a sense of obligation, and not true feelings of affection. I will make sure it is something your family will not find objectionable, but also something useful and beautiful. Expect it by July 31st.  _

_ Your friend, _

_ Draco L. Malfoy _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I haven't posted in a long time. I've been busy with a lot of things, so it was good to get back to this and finally stop procrastinating on it. Thank you all for reading! I appreciate every single one of you! Happy Holidays!


	7. Interlude 4: Of Malfoys and Weasleys

###  Interlude 4: Of Malfoys and Weasleys

June 31st, 1992

Lucius Malfoy opened the letter with trembling hands, coming near to cutting himself with the letter opener. It was addressed in the style the Death Eaters, one he had been accustomed to receiving. These were the ones used to send missions to the Death Eaters.

And now, for the first time in almost 12 years, he was getting another one. 

_ Should I not be overjoyed that our Lord is rising, and that he will bring prosperity to England? _ Lucius thought. 

_ But he will destroy everything I have built up over these 12 years - and make it so that I must build everything from scratch.  _

_ But he will place me above even where I am now,  _ Lucius knew.  _ Still, what will that mean for Draco, and Narcissa? What if they choose not to join him?  _

_ I made the choice I did long ago - I threw in with the Dark Lord, and I cannot change that.  _ Lucius took the letter out of the envelope, and began to read it. 

_ “Lucius - you should know by now that your efforts with giving the Philosopher’s Stone to Severus Snape were of great use. My resurrection is slated for July 31st, and I will send a portkey to you after you complete a single task for me.” _

_ “That task is to set up recruiting in France. We cannot recruit in England, as of yet, but France is ripe for a force to unite the various Dark factions. You will organize it through owl post with a Jean DuFeuille in France - I trust you have the necessary funds to send.  Jean is very trustworthy, and will be more than happy to assist.” _

_ “Do not fail.” _

_ “Lord Voldemort” _

Lucius sighed. He had been hoping for something easier and better, but had truly expected something such as this. 

_ I suppose I must write this Jean DeFeuille now. I hope it shall not be too much. _

###

July 1st, 1992

“Arthur, why are you so tense?” Molly asked at dinner, and Arthur Weasley sighed.

“Things are getting... intense at the Ministry,” he replied. “Everyone knows I’m a supporter of Dumbledore, at least to some degree, and most people disagree with his statement that You-Know-Who is returning.”

“Well, they’re  _ wrong _ ,” Ron said from across the table. “He is coming back - Dumbledore and Dylan said he was, and so he is.”

“Ron...” Percy said, and then shut his mouth after a glare from the brother he’d addressed.

“I’m scared,” Fred said, grinning. “After all, if Dylan is the Boy-Who-Lived, we’re all in trouble.” Arthur looked at Ron, who was growing steadily pinker.

“I concur,” said George with a smirk. “He doesn’t seem to have the, uh,  _ maturity _ that he would need.” Ron’s face went red, and Arthur scolded both the twins.

“You two need to knock off the teasing,” he said, giving each of them a slightly stern look. “This is no laughing matter.”

“Of course not - that’s why we weren’t. We were just, ah, smiling, right, Fred?”

“Of course, brother of mine - we would  _ never _ laugh at something so serious as the return of You-Know-Who.”

“You two need to  _ shut up _ !” Ron yelled. “You  _ don’t  _ understand, you  _ can’t  _ understand, you weren’t there -” Ron snapped his mouth shut in a rare display of self-control and got up, saying, “I’m done.”

“Good for Ronnie - methinks he needs a break,” Fred said, and Arthur shook his head sadly.

_ I don’t know whether to be glad for their perspective in these dark times or to hate it. _

###

July 2nd, 1992

_ My Lord, _

_ I have written this Jean DeFeuille, and he has given me the information I require to begin recruitment within the month. I know most of the details, and have received the maps of France that show great concentrations of Dark wizards. Furthermore, I have combined that information with another set of maps, ones that show where Light wizards are generally concentrated, and extrapolated from that with a population density map to see where slightly lesser concentrations of Dark wizards may be.  _

_ As I have written, I expect this initial setup of recruiting to take under a month. I trust this speed is to your satisfaction? If it is not, I would require more funds and at least two more trusted contacts in France to carry out tasks. _

_ Your servant, _

_ Lucius Abraxas Malfoy _

 

July 5th, 1992

_ Dear Dad, _

_ Watch out at the Ministry. The goblins are telling me that there have been incidents not reported in the news of Ministry employees that support Dumbledore being demoted or laid off - and sometimes even foreclosed on. They know that you work for the Ministry, and since they care about me, they told me about this.  _

_ There are few names to be especially wary of. They are: _

  * _Dolores Umbridge_
  * _Samuel Daye_
  * _Invidias Lehn_
  * _Lisa Carls_



_ They are  _ _ all _ _ trying to purge the Ministry of Dumbledore supporters. The Minister is likely in on it as well, but nothing has been confirmed. I am trying to find out more, but please make sure you don't talk about supporting Dumbledore at work, or anywhere in public.  _ _ Please _ _. _

_ Your son, _

_ Bill _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays to you all! I promise the next chapter will be a full-length chapter, and not an interlude! Thank you all for reading!


	8. Chapter 3: Back to School

###  Chapter 3: Back to School

“Uncle Peter, where is this?” Harry asked, and Uncle Peter looked at him.

“You’ve never been to the Mechanical Arithmancy Emporium? I thought you’d been to Diagon Alley,” he said. 

“I have, but... Mum and Dad never took me here,” Harry said. “What’s in here?”

“Well, you’ll find out, won’t you?” Uncle Peter said, making an “after you” motion. Harry opened the door and stepped inside the dark shop, lit only by the light from the door and a few candles.

“Ah, visitors? I’m sorry, the lights went out because of a miscalculation on my apprentice’s part, I’m just about to fix it,” a woman’s voice said. “And... there!” There was a click, and light suddenly flooded the shop. Bright light fixtures were hanging above them, and Harry gaped in awe at the sheer number of lights and their brightness.

“Are these... Muggle lights?” Harry asked, and the shopkeeper glared at him.

“No! Of course not! As if Muggle handiwork would be suitable for use in  _ my _ shop! No, these are of my own creation - they may be  _ modeled _ on Muggle fluorescent lights, but they were crafted and are powered by magic.” She shook her head. “Muggle lights wouldn’t even be able to hold up with all the magic here. Don’t they teach the limits of Muggle and magic interaction at Hogwarts anymore?”

“I’m only a first-year...” Harry said, trailing off as if he were making an excuse that he assumed one his age would make, but he was raging in his head.

_ How am I supposed to react when I see bright lights the likes of which I’ve never seen inside a building?  _

“Well, I suppose that’s alright, then,” the woman said, tossing her hair behind her back. “You seem older than that, though. Now, what can I get you two?”

“I’m here to get a present for my godson,” Uncle Peter said.

“And this boy is that godson, I would assume?” asked the woman.

“Indeed.”

“So, what kind of toy were you looking for?”

“Preferably one that can serve some function aside from amusement,” Uncle Peter said dryly. “I do not buy  _ useless  _ things for my godson.”

_ Uncle Peter doesn’t seem like himself, _ Harry observed.  _ I wonder why. _

“I see. Well, might I interest you in a Sleeman’s Sentry?” the woman asked. “It keeps guard over your belongings and bites them with its teeth if someone gets too close.” She pulled a metal mouse, standing on its hind legs, off of a shelf, and showed it to Harry and Uncle Peter.

“Perhaps something that does not suggest my grandson has anything to hide,” Uncle Peter said calmly, yet it felt to Harry like an icy wind was blowing right at the shopkeeper from his godfather. “I would prefer something that has a function for his schooling.”

“Do you like Potions, boy?” the shopkeeper asked, and Harry nodded, still unsure of what was causing his godfather’s strange personality change. “I thought you looked to be one who would. Listen, I have a great device that can store potions ingredients and then give them back at your verbal command. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a waste of time,” Uncle Peter cut in before Harry could respond. “He needs no more assistance with Potions. Perhaps something to help him write reports faster - though I doubt you have any such thing.”

“Do you want a Quik-Quotes Quill, then? I do not sell those, sir,” the shopkeeper said, finally beginning to show signs of annoyance. 

“Why would I get a Quik-Quotes Quill for my godson if I could get a mechanical writing device - though I doubt you could even make one. My apologies. We shall be leaving now -”

“Wait! Sir, I have such a device - though it will be somewhat expensive - but it is exactly what you are looking for! Just give me a moment to get it!” The shopkeeper seemed somewhat flustered, but she ran to the back, looked through a few boxes, and pulled out a strange metal contraption. 

It had 36 buttons, each above a rod that was attached both to the button and the body of the contraption. There was also a space at the top with a small slot and a hammer-looking object just above the slot, with a silver button on one end.

“This is an invention from my apprentice, one that we worked on together. He called it a hammerwriter. We made three of these, but we haven’t managed to sell any as of yet. Here, try it out!” The shopkeeper set it on a counter, and grabbed a sheet of parchment and put it inside the slot. Harry now saw that the buttons were the letters of the alphabet, as well as the ten numeric digits. He uncertainly hit one of them, the one with an “B” on it, and felt an immeasurably insignificant amount of magic go into the hammerwriter. He heard the hammer hit the parchment, and saw an “B” in black on it, almost as if it had been painted on. He hit another button, and another, and so on until he spelled “Beautiful Magic”. 

“This is... amazing...” Harry said. “How does it work?”

“Well, you most likely wouldn’t understand the intricate mechanical details, but suffice it to say that it transfers the magic energy from your finger - an immeasurably small amount, by the way - into a... a mold, for that magic, if you will, that then transfers onto the paper, creating the letter you see there.”

“Wow...” Harry said, and Uncle Peter nodded approvingly.

“How much will this be?” he asked.

“Fifty Galleons, please,” the shopkeeper replied, and Harry looked to Uncle Peter with an expression of shock.

_ He can’t... he can’t pay that much for a present for  _ me _! _

_ He can if he wants to - it might even help me increase my power and finally be free!  _

_ But  _ fifty Galleons _? That’s too much! _

“Alright, let me just get my coin wallet,” Uncle Peter said, and took it out and removed fifty Galleons from it. “Here you are, and please continue making such amazing things. Sorry for my brash words, this is truly a well-crafted gift worthy of praise. Thank you, madam.”

“You’re too kind, sir,” the shopkeeper said, bowing and walking back to the counter. 

“Come on, Harry - let’s go.” Uncle Peter took him by the arm and, Harry still carrying the hammerwriter, they left.

“Why were you so... harsh before she took out the hammerwriter?” Harry asked, and Uncle Peter laughed.

“Because she asked what kind of toy you wanted - I don’t buy toys for my godchild at this age.” Uncle Peter stopped, then grinned. “And I just wanted to mess with her. And you.”

“What? Uncle Peter, you don’t make sense sometimes,” Harry said, shaking his head but smiling in spite of himself.

“I should hope it’s most of the time that I don’t make sense,” Uncle Peter said smiling, and Harry smiled even wider.

“Thank you, Uncle Peter,” he said.

“You’re welcome, Harry.”

###

Dylan walked into Flourish and Blotts with his dad next to him. There seemed to be a large commotion at the center, with a tall blond man at the center of it. 

“Dylan, let’s avoid that,” his father said, and Dylan nodded. “I know that man - it will be bad news if he sees you.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain later.” Dylan walked through the store, getting the books he required, many of which were written by Gilderoy Lockhart, a name that seemed vaguely familiar but that Dylan didn’t know from where. His father scowled as he looked at the list again, muttering,

“Why are so many of them by him? Dumbledore can’t have gotten someone so incompetent that they would use  _ his _ books -” Just then, Dylan heard a loud, cheery voice from the center of the room boom,

“Ah, glad you asked! Yes, the reason that so many of my books are on the list for Hogwarts is because I am, in fact, teaching there next term!” Dylan saw his father go white, and then he grabbed Dylan’s hand. 

“We’re checking out. Now.” They did so, with a cashier looking somewhat confused as to what Dylan’s father’s rush was, but checked their books out rapidly nonetheless. 

“Thank you.” Dylan’s dad’s tone was somewhat cool, and Dylan smiled apologetically at the cashier. As they were walking out, he heard the blond man, whom he assumed was Gilderoy Lockhart, say,

“Ah, yes! I’ve heard about this business. You see, if you simply take the wand and flick it like so...” 

“That man doesn’t know what he’s doing,” his dad said, shaking his head angrily. “He’s a danger to everyone around him.” 

“Are you sure? If he’s had all these adventures...” Dylan said, and his father looked down at him.

“I’m not sure that he has.” There was no more discussion on Gilderoy Lockhart, and as Dylan and his father continued their shopping, Dylan was fiercely glad that his father was there to help him navigate the world. 

###

“Hermione, do you have everything?” Kristina’s mother asked, and the person in question nodded. “And do you, Kristina?” Kristina nodded. “Good. I’ll see you for the holidays!”

“Bye Mum!” Kristina said, and charged through the pillar to Platform 9 and 3/4. She saw the Hogwarts express again, and as Hermione came up behind her, she smiled in awe.

“It’s beautiful, in a way,” Hermione said, as smoke went out of the train. “Even if it  _ is _ bright red.”

“You don’t like red?” Kristina asked, and Hermione shook her head. 

“I like red, it’s just this ugly shade of it makes it look, well, ugly!”

“Ah.” Kristina motioned for Hermione to follow. “Let’s find Padma!”

“Oh yes, right!”

###

“...And let us welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lockhart!” Dumbledore clapped his hands, and so did everyone else, albeit some more enthusiastically than others. Harry saw Draco, clapping very slowly with a mildly annoyed and yet amused look on his face. Harry himself was clapping in a fashion that while not quite as slow as Draco, produced much less noise and hopefully conveyed his displeasure of having  _ Gilderoy Lockhart _ as a teacher.

“Do you think he’ll show us how he defeated the banshees?” Greg asked, and Harry rolled his eyes.

_ Any banshees that this bumbling, incompetent fool can defeat are not worthy of anyone’s attention.  _

“I doubt it,” Vince said. “After all, that’s some powerful magic.” Harry glanced over to Draco, who gave the slightest roll of his eyes.

“And next, I shall introduce the interim Potions teacher. Professor Snape is taking a leave of absence that will last one month -” Cheers went up from the three non-Slytherin Houses, and Dumbledore continued talking as though nothing had happened. “Professor Leroy Grant! If you would stand up, please?” A man clad in black robes stood up, his long white hair tied back in a ponytail, and said in an American accent,

“I’m Leroy Grant. I look forward to working with y’all!” He then went back and sat down, leaving the Slytherins solemn and the other three Houses rejoicing. 

“Why do you think Snape’s gone?” Harry whispered to Draco.

“I have not the slightest idea,” Draco replied. “Though I will ask my father.”

“Now, we must feast!” Dumbledore clapped his hands, and food appeared on the tables, and everyone began to eat. 

_ Why’s Snape gone? I hope that he comes back - and soon. I need to talk to him and figure out when Voldemort’s coming back - so that I can plan around that.  _

_ Greater power and greater freedom - those are my goals. I cannot forget them. _

###

“Harry?” Draco whispered from the next bed over.

“Yeah?” Harry answered. He’d been awake for some time, thinking about the time he’d spent with Uncle Peter, and why Snape wasn’t at Hogwarts, among other things.

“How much spell practice did you get in over the summer?”

“Do you want to talk in the common room?” Harry asked, and Draco replied,

“That is likely a good idea.” Harry got up and saw Draco in his pajamas doing the same, and they went out into the common room, sitting next to each other in the couch by the fire. 

“As I said, how much practice did you get in over the summer?”

“Not too much, but I did some. I learned a few new spells to help with Potions, too.”

“I practiced healing magic. I can heal shallow cuts now - and I’m still practicing.”

“What did you practice on?”

“Animals, and sometimes myself when I got some cuts.”

“Draco, that’s really amazing.” Draco looked towards the fire, and said,

“Do you think so? A Malfoy is expected to be the best at everything they do. I am far from the best at anything, right now. That is why I must practice.”

“Is your father the best at everything he does?” Harry asked.

“Yes.” The answer was immediate, firm, and uncompromising. “He is... well-versed in geography, politics, medicine, psychology, literature, many,  _ many _ branches of magic - he is knowledgeable about all these. He spares no effort to learning something new, and is rational and sensible in his arguments.” Harry could feel the admiration for his father pouring off of Draco, and asked,

“Are there things he doesn’t know how to do?”

“Only such things that are not useful to him.”

“Is he good at Potions?” There was a pause, and Draco answered slowly,

“I... do not know. I would assume so.”

“Is he good at Arithmancy?” Draco frowned, and said,

“He has never mentioned it to me.”

“How do others perceive him?”

“Others - likely yourself included - see him as regal, refined, intelligent, and untouchably perfect.” Harry shifted on the couch to look directly at Draco.

“Do you want to be the same?”

“Well, of course! I am a Malfoy!” Draco looked as if Harry had asked whether the sky was blue, or whether magic existed. 

“You want to be untouchable?” Harry asked.

“What?” Draco asked, frowning. 

“You said he was untouchably perfect. If you want to be the same, you must want to be untouchable.”

“Well, yes - I do not want the ignorant masses able to affect me in any way,” Draco said. “Being untouchable means that all others will adore you so much that they can only dream of being on even ground with you.”

_ But you won’t adore anyone. _ Harry’s thoughts suddenly took a turn into an emotion he couldn’t name.  _ You’ll be untouchable, alone. You’ll be so far off the ground that everyone on the ground won’t be able to make a connection with you - and you won’t be able to with them. _

“I... see.” Harry decided to keep his thoughts to himself. “Well, what do you think of Professor Grant?”

“He seems far too unrefined to be able to teach effectively...” Draco began, and all the while through his monologue, Harry was thinking,

_ Draco is going to end up lonely. And I need to prevent that before it’s too late. _

###

“Ron, how’s your dad doing?” Parvati asked, and Dylan froze. 

_ I wonder if he still has his job - Ron talked about the Ministry firing people that supported Dumbledore.  _

“Oh, he’s fine,” Ron said lightly, then added bitterly, “Except for the fact that he  _ lost his job _ .” Dylan felt his blood chill, and saw Parvati’s jaw drop as Ron stalked past into his bedroom. 

“Oh Merlin...” she whispered. “I had no idea...” Parvati looked at Dylan, took a deep breath, and just walked on past to the girls’ dormitory, barely maintaining composure along the way.

_ I need to talk to Ron. He’s hurting - I can tell. I might be able to help him. _

Dylan walked into the room he shared with Ron and the other second-year Gryffindor boys, and shut the door quietly behind him. 

“Ron?”

“Yeah?” a somewhat choked and teary voice answered, and Dylan realized that Ron was crying. 

“I know your dad lost his job, but it’s going to be alright. He’s gonna get another one, and you’ll be -”

“That’s rich. That’s  _ rich _ , Dylan! You think it’s going to be alright? Do you know how much my family’s in debt  _ already _ ? And that was when my dad  _ had _ a job - we’ve kept needing to borrow money to pay the bills, and you think it’s going to  _ be alright _ ?” Ron’s voice had become a roar by this point, and Dylan was horrified by what he’d caused. 

“And you don’t even know what it’s  _ like _ to not know if your house will still be there when the holidays and breaks come around! You don’t know what it’s  _ like  _ to worry about if you’ll have food to eat for your next meal! Hell, you’ve probably never known what it’s like to even  _ worry  _ about  _ money  _ \- ever!”

“I -” Dylan began, but Ron cut him off.

“And don’t say that you do, because I’ve seen your house! It’s big, and it’s only for five people! I live in a smaller house than you, Dylan - but my family’s got nine people!  _ Nine _ ! And your dad’s an Auror - do you know how much Aurors get  _ paid _ ? Way more than a Ministry employee working in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, I can tell you!” 

“Ron -”

“I’m not done! You think that you can tell me it will all be alright? You have  _ no clue _ what kind of a situation my family’s in, so I’ll thank you for shutting up about it!”

“We could help -”

“You think we need  _ charity _ ? Get  _ out _ ! We don’t need anyone  _ else’s _ money for  _ our _ problems! So,  _ get out _ !” Dylan fled, shutting the door behind him and kicking the stone wall outside the room. It hurt, but it was nothing compared to the emotions inside him.

_ He’s an ungrateful little - _

_ But he’s right, I don’t know - _

_ He should be thankful I’m his friend - _

_ I never knew money was that big of a deal - _

_ I was just trying to help! _

###

As Harry stirred the powdered scarab shells into his potion, Professor Grant came by. 

“Why, Harry, that sure is a well-made potion you have there!” Harry looked at it and saw its light red color, and asked,

“How can you tell, sir?”

“The consistency, Harry - the consistency is just perfect! The color is far easier to obtain, but a perfect consistency - I do declare, that’s a mighty fine potion. You’ll be a great Potions Master someday, if you try.”

“Thank you for your kind words, sir.” Harry turned back to his potion, and Draco whispered,

“Is he serious? He cannot -”

“Draco, hush,” Harry whispered back. Draco did, sulkily going back to his own potion. As Harry added the ingredients, he noticed that his potion was steadily growing more and more red - when it was supposed to steadily lighten to white. 

“What would do this...” Harry said quietly, and then had an idea. 

_ If I added the ingredients in the wrong order, it wouldn’t do this. It would likely explode. There’s one thing I can think of that would change the color like this - let’s hope I’m right, because I know the way to counter it.  _ Harry went to the ingredients cupboard and got out a sprig of dried  _ mutadas _ grass. He picked one of the blades and went back to his station and chopped it up finely, then sprinkled it in his potion. 

As the first piece hit the potion, Harry knew that he’d been right. With each piece, the potion lightened and thinned, just as it should have been at the step in the process. Harry glanced around at everyone near him.

_ Now which one of them managed to float a chopped  _ antidas  _ blade into my potion while I wasn’t looking? _ Harry looked around, and saw no one who could possibly have enough Potions knowledge to know what that would do, or how to prepare it properly.  _ Then who - _

“I say, Harry, you are simply amazing,” Professor Grant said, walking by. “That potion looks just as it should. Do you mind me asking why it wasn’t looking so well just a few minutes ago?”

“I suspect someone put something in it to make the added ingredients have the opposite effect,” Harry said quietly. “Though I do not know who.”

“Do you know what they done put in?” Grant asked at a similar volume. 

“I figured it was  _ antidas  _ grass, since that’s the only thing I know of that would have... that... effect?” Harry saw Professor Grant’s face change from a content one into one of pure, unadulterated joy, and he began to laugh out loud.

“To think... a second-year student would be able to identify and  _ counter _ a finely chopped  _ antidas _ grass! I say, you are a right  _ marvelous  _ student at Potions!”

“Professor?” Harry asked, concerned as Grant’s face was turning red. “Are you alright?”

“I’m more than alright, Harry - I want you to stay after class and discuss something with me.”

“Alright, sir,” Harry said, uncomfortable with all the glances towards him as a result of the interaction.

“What do y’all think you’re doin’?” Grant asked the rest of the class, demeanor turning merely content again. “If your potions get ruined ‘cause you thought it’d be a good idea to watch others, you can’t blame me!” The class hurriedly returned to their work, and Draco whispered,

“What was that about, Harry?”

“I honestly don’t know,” he replied as he continued working.

_ Wait... Did  _ Grant _ put the  _ antidas  _ grass in my potion? _

###

“Professor?” Harry asked as the last student left and closed the door. “What did you want to speak to me about?”

“You are a right amazin’ student, Harry,” Grant said, shaking his head with a look of wonder on his face. “How did you figure out that it was  _ antidas _ grass that I put in your potion?” 

_ So it was him. _

“I noticed that the potion was going in the opposite direction of what should have been happening, and the only ingredient I knew of that could do that was  _ antidas _ grass. It was a lucky guess that I used  _ mutadas  _ grass, since it was the only thing I knew that could counter it.”

“There are only two known ingredients that can do that, Harry - and both are countered by  _ mutadas _ grass. How did you become so well-learned at Potions, may I ask, so that you could figure that out?”

“I... read a lot. Of Potions books and other kinds,” Harry said, and Grant nodded thoughtfully.

“But surely you must practice brewing potions more than others? I must say, you’re head, shoulders, and torso above the rest of your class - in all the Houses.”

“Thank you for your kind words, sir, but how did you realize that I was good enough to test? You couldn’t have randomly chosen me and decide to throw in an ingredient that could have caused a terrible reaction, could you?”

“No, I watched you on the first day of class, Harry, and saw how simply brilliant you were at both the art and science of brewing potions. You knew the correct ingredients to throw in at precisely the right times, and even changed the recipe in such a way to make it more efficient, without sacrificing safety or effect. You almost have the aptitude of a Potions Master, and you’re only - what, twelve?” Harry nodded. “I would train you in Potions, but there’s nothing more that I can teach you that you can’t learn just as well from books.”

“Sir, might I be able to use your office to brew when class is not in session?” Harry asked, and Grant widened his eyes.

“Well, of course - you wish to practice, I assume?” Harry nodded.

“I want to get better at brewing - I may be able to learn most of the theory behind it, but practice is valuable in its own way.”

“Would Fridays at eight o’clock in the evening work for you?” Grant asked, and Harry nodded.

“That would be wonderful. I will see you then, Professor,” he said, and nodded to Grant before gathering his things and walking out.

_ Am I really that good at Potions? _ Harry wondered as he walked to his next class.  _ Perhaps I am. _

###

Kristina yawned as Lockhart enthusiastically went on and on about his adventures in the Himalayas.

“And then, a snowstorm started, and I was separated from my guide and the rest of my group! I was forced to take shelter in a cave, and once the snowstorm stopped, I could not get out, because I had been snowed in!” There was a collective gasp from only a few of the girls and a single boy - the ones who still found him attractive after seeing his incompetence at the beginning of class with a pixie - but Kristina still felt ashamed that even her House, Ravenclaw, the House of the smart, had those who could not recognize blatant incompetence when they saw it. “I cast a spell to melt the snow, but it was no use, as I realized it would cause an avalanche if I melted all of it. What was I to do?” Lockhart paused, eyes sweeping the room, and then stopped on Kristina.

“Ms. Potter!” he said, smiling his fake, gilded smile. “What spell could be used to get out of this situation?”

“Well sir, there are a number of them,” Kristina said, stalling for time to figure out a way to prove he didn’t do what he said he did. Then she struck an idea. “Apparating out seems like the best option to me.”

“Well done, Ms. Potter!” Lockhart said, beaming and smiling to everyone in the room. “That’s  _ exactly _ what I did - I Apparated out of the cave, and I began my trek back down to the camp we had set up.”

“No, you didn’t.” Kristina said calmly. 

“Come again, Ms. Potter?” Lockhart asked, still smiling, but Kristina saw anger behind it. She continued nonetheless.

“You didn’t Apparate out of the cave - because if you could, you would’ve Apparated down somewhere closer to the camp. And, the thing is, you  _ couldn’t _ have, because a snowstorm would have changed the terrain too much for -”

“Ten points from Ravenclaw for attempting to paint me as a liar,  _ Ms. Potter _ ,” Lockhart said, and Kristina gasped. 

“You’re taking points away because I’m disagreeing with the feasibility of your story?”

“Another ten points from Ravenclaw,” Lockhart said.

“Kristina, sit down!” Padma hissed. “You can resolve this later!”

“Please provide an explanation for how you Apparated in an area you never saw in its radically changed state at the time, then.”

“Twenty-five points from Ravenclaw, and detention with me for a month, every day, at eight o’clock.” Kristina felt anger almost burn through her, but she shut her mouth and closed her eyes. 

“Very well,  _ sir _ ,” she said, and stopped talking. 

“Anyway, as I was walking back to camp...” Lockhart went on speaking as if nothing had happened, and Kristina tried to forget about the glances she was sure everyone else was giving her - the ones filled with hatred and resentment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Happy New Year's to all of you - every single one of you who reads makes me happier! My New Year's Resolution is to write more for this story - so I look forward to seeing all of you soon! 
> 
> Odium Dei


	9. Chapter 4: Unity in Anger, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know I haven't posted in a while. Stuff's been busy. Well, anyway, here's a new chapter!

### Chapter 4: Unity in Anger, Part 1

Kristina walked into the Ravenclaw Common Room, dreading the reception she knew awaited her.

 _He_ can’t _have done that! It’s against the rules of Apparation! Why does he get to abuse his authority by taking away points when I’m telling the truth?_ Kristina thought furiously, and then looked around at everyone in the room. They were all looking at her, and then a sixth-year boy came up to her and said,

“You’re the one that lost Ravenclaw forty-five points in Lockhart’s class, right - Kristina Potter?” She nodded, bracing herself for an attack of some kind, and he smiled. “Congratulations for being the first one - at least in Ravenclaw - to stand up to him! That lying bastard deserves to be called out - since he’s obviously a bumbling idiot that couldn’t effectively catch _pixies_ , let alone fight banshees!” Kristina was puzzled, and said,

“Why don’t you all hate me?”

“Well, I’m not the only person here, and I couldn’t tell you if some people hated you, but Ravenclaws should stand up for truth and rationality, not be simply cowed by threats from unjust authority. Isn’t that right?” The boy asked the room as a whole, and they murmured or nodded agreement. “See? Oh, how rude - I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Dan - Dan Flom. I’m originally from the States, but moved here just before I entered first year.”

“Why’d you move?” Kristina asked, forgetting the original reason for the conversation.

“Ohio - that’s a state in the U.S. - turned out to be too... old-fashioned for my parents. They considered moving to either coast, but in the end decided to just move here.”

“Interesting.”

“Anyway, as I was saying, a Ravenclaw stands for truth and rationality - for saying what’s right, instead of what’s convenient. No other House does that - most Gryffindors say they’re the upholders of justice, but they’re just one side of the spectrum on what justice is. They believe what they were told to believe - and so do most Slytherins. Hufflepuffs often don’t care. Not all Ravenclaws have the guts to stand up to falsehoods and irrationality like you - so congratulations. If anyone gives you trouble, just tell me.”

“Alright, thank you,” Kristina said, and shook her head in wonder as he walked away.

_“To challenge every idea from every angle, and only when it has stood strong through that test can it be given the title ‘truth’.” That’s what that one philosopher, Erman Wundt, said, and it seems applicable here._

_What a glorious concept._

###

Dylan walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and narrowed his eyes when he saw the lesson plan written on the chalkboard.

 _“A discussion on how to resist the cold will take place after a couple of readings from_ Hiking in the Himalayas _. Students will be required to read_ Hiking in the Himalayas _in its entirety for next class.”_

_Great, this fake is going to make us read his book and try to imitate what he’s done. Sounds like fun._

“You reckon we’re going to learn any spells?” Ron asked, and Dylan shook his head.

_We’re going to learn exactly nothing useful - this clown is useless._

###

Harry walked out of Potions feeling accomplished.

 _I managed to figure out a way to save the Icebreaker Anti-Venom Potion from Professor Grant’s_ orichal _dust - I’m amazing._

“Harry, you look happy,” Draco said. “For what reason?”

“I’m just proud of myself for figuring out how to beat Professor Grant again,” Harry said, knowing full well that Draco had no idea what he was talking about.

“You have been competing with him somehow since a few class periods ago, have you not? What exactly are you doing?”

“I’ll tell you if you figure it out,” Harry said mysteriously, and Draco chuckled.

“I suppose that is fair.”

###

Hermione was in the library, which was one of her favorite places to be, given that it contained more knowledge than she had access to on her own - especially when she was at home.

Hermione was reading the book Professor Flitwick had recommended her, a book on wizarding political theory titled _Why They Stay and Why They Go: A Theory of Wizarding Governments_. She had read the introduction and was eagerly beginning the first chapter when she glimpsed Padma darting into the library out of the corner of her eye.

 _Why is she running? This is the_ library _-_ Hermione thought, until Padma saw her and ran up to her.

“Hermione, there’s trouble,” she said breathlessly. “Kristina...”

“What about Kristina?”

“Three fourth-years cornered her in the halls and started harassing her, saying something about how she thinks she’s better than them for disrespecting a teacher and losing points, and then one of them drew his wand -”

“Where?” Hermione asked, glancing at Madam Pince. “Did you get a professor?”

“If you get a professor, Lockhart could get involved,” Padma hissed, and Hermione grimaced. She had once thought the professor attractive - but his idiocy and blatant lies has torn that shallow perception to shreds. “Come _on_ \- it’s on the third floor!”

“Yes, of course!” Hermione grabbed her book bag and the book she’d been reading, and ran out of the library, and much to her dismay, Madam Pince yelled,

“ _What_ are you _doing_ ! _Walk_ ! This is a _library_!” Hermione apologized to Madam Pince in her mind, and resolved to do so in person after the incident was resolved.

Padma led Hermione up some flights of stairs, and then Hermione heard raised voices from a corridor. She ran towards it as she heard,

“You arrogant little _bitch_! Losing Ravenclaw points, and then having the nerve to insult me? You need to -”

“I suggest you stop talking,” she heard Dylan say, and then say him strolling in from a side corridor, lazily twirling his wand. “Gryffindor Tower is close by, don’t you know?” Hermione ran up to see three fourth-year boys blocking Kristina into a corner. “And since that’s my _sister_ that you just called a bitch, I would hope you have the decency to apologize to her - though I guess if you had any decency, you wouldn’t have called her a bitch in the first place.”

“Stay out of this - even if you’re the Boy-Who-Lived, this is a Ravenclaw problem -”

“It’s _my_ problem if you’re hurting _my_ sister, after disarming her,” Dylan said, leaning down and picking up a wand off the ground. “This qualifies as harassment, doesn’t it? And therefore, I’m defending someone when I do _this_ \- _Expelliarmus_!” Dylan pointed his wand at the one on the left, and he flew against the wall, wand flying even further. The other two pointed their wands at Dylan, and Hermione whipped out her wand and intoned,

“ _Silencio!_ ” as she pointed her wand at the one in the middle, who moved his mouth but couldn’t say anything. However, the last one pointed his wand at Dylan and yelled,

“ _Morsus Venenatos!_ ” A beam of eerie purple light stuck Dylan’s wand arm, and a bite mark appeared, blood dripping out of it.

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” Hermione shouted as Dylan howled in pain. The last one’s wand got knocked out of his hand as he got knocked back a couple feet. “Padma, run and get a teacher -”

“There is no need for that, Ms. Granger,” Professor McGonagall said from behind Hermione, walking up next to her. “I will handle this matter.” She looked at Dylan, who’d stopped howling and was now only gritting his teeth silently, the three Ravenclaw boys, in their various locations, and Kristina. “ _Accio_ wands!” Hermione felt her wand get pulled out of her hand, and looked to McGonagall in shock.

“Professor, why -”

“You cast spells as well, Ms. Granger,” McGonagall said as five wands flew into her hand. “Now, _all_ of you - except Mr. Potter and Ms. Patil - will come with me to my office and tell me _exactly_ what happened. Mr. Potter will need to go to the infirmary, and I will speak with him later. Ms. Patil, could you escort him there, please?”

“Yes, Professor,” Padma said, and motioned for Dylan to come over to the hall. Hermione whispered,

“Thank you for helping Kristina.” Dylan smiled and nodded, then grimaced as the pain again became too much. As Padma and Dylan were walking away, McGonagall turned to the five remaining people, and said sternly,

“If there is so much as a toe out of line on the way to my office, I will _personally_ make certain that you are expelled.”

###

“Let’s start with Ms. Granger - what happened from your perspective?” McGonagall was saying, with Hermione, Kristina, and the three fourth-years sitting in chair that formed a semicircle in front of Professor McGonagall’s desk, her steel gaze telling everyone that no more

“Well,” Hermione began, as Kristina looked to the side. “I was reading in the library when Padma came and got me, and she was saying that Kristina was being harassed by some fourth-years. I packed up and came running, and then I saw them having cornered Kristina.” Hermione took a deep breath, and continued. “ _They_ had disarmed her, but before I could do anything, Dylan stepped in. He said something about her being his sister, and how it wasn’t a Ravenclaw issue. Then he disarmed one of them, and they pointed their wands at him. I silenced one of them, but the last one cast the Venomous Bite curse -”

“How do you know what that is?” McGonagall asked, eyes narrowed, and Hermione replied,

“I... read it in a book. He said the right incantation for it, anyway.”

“ _Mr._ Haywood, _what_ possessed you to cast such a spell on a _fellow student_ ? Did you not perhaps consider that you could have _killed_ Mr. Potter with that spell?”

“I didn’t cast it, I swear!” Leo Haywood protested. “It wasn’t me! Something did it - something that wasn’t me!”

“Are you saying you were possessed?” McGonagall asked, and Leo nodded. “Mr. Haywood, this could be a serious problem. If you believe you were possessed, then I suggest that you talk to Madam Pomfrey when we are done here and all of your punishments are decided upon.”

“Anyway, that’s when you came in, Professor,” Hermione finished.

“Is that all?” McGonagall asked, and Hermione nodded. “Well then, Ms. Potter, I’d like your version of the events that transpired.”

“I was walking up to Gryffindor Tower to see if I could talk to Dylan, and then those three cornered me and started talking about how I lost Ravenclaw points and how I was too arrogant. They disarmed me, but then Dylan stepped in.” Kristina shook her head, remembering how terrified she had been. “I was afraid they were going to kill me - they seemed really angry.”

“I see. I believe I understand the situation. I will confer with the headmaster on this, but attacking other students is unacceptable - regardless of the reason.” Hermione’s eyes widened as she realized that Dylan could get in trouble for defending Kristina. “I would suggest that Ms. Granger escort Ms. Potter to the Hospital Wing, to make certain that Ms. Potter is not injured.” Hermione and Kristina stood up and walked towards the door, and Kristina whispered shakily,

“Thanks.”

“You're welcome - I'm glad you weren't hurt.” Hermione walked out of the office, with Kristina following behind, not saying anything. “I really am.”

###

“Look, I don't know what you're talking about,” Harry told Draco. “I didn't even know that Dylan got in trouble.”

“You were not aware that Kristina got cornered by a group of fourth-year Ravenclaws and was disarmed?” Draco inquired.

“She was what?” Harry demanded. “Who are these fourth-years?”

“They're presumably with the headmaster, discussing their punishment.” Draco had a bemused smile on his face.

“I'm going to talk to him.” Harry felt his blood go cold. “They're not getting away with hurting _my sister_.”

“Would you like me to go with you?”

“No - no offense, Draco, but you’d likely make things even worse than they're going to be.”

“None taken - you may be right. May I at least escort you to the Headmaster’s Office?”

“Sure.” Harry’s face contorted into a terrifying smile. “And perhaps stay outside in case something explodes.”

###

Harry and Draco walked up to the gargoyles in front of the entrance to Dumbledore’s office, and Harry said loudly,

“Dumbledore, we need to talk.” He waited a couple seconds, and the gargoyles made way for him to enter. “Draco, stay here.” Draco nodded, and Harry walked into the office.

“Ah, Harry, my boy, what brings you here?” Dumbledore asked cheerfully, sipping from a cup of tea. “I know you must have a good reason.”

“Yes - I've heard about the fourth-years who attacked my sister. I want to know what their punishment is.” Harry’s voice was firm and uncompromising, and Dumbledore sighed.

“Take a seat, my boy, and I will tell you of the many things I had to consider in that decision.”

“ _How were they punished_?” Harry demanded, emphasizing each word.

“I will tell you if you sit down and agree to let me tell you why I punished them in the way I did.” Harry sat down, glaring at Dumbledore, who sighed. “I am aware we are not the best of friends, but please remain respectful.” Harry eased the glare, and Dumbledore smiled. “Good. Now, I gave them detention for two months - separately.”

“Why didn't you expel -”

“Please, allow me to speak.” Harry shut his mouth, and Dumbledore continued. “I gave your brother and Ms. Granger one night of detention with Professor McGonagall, since they too attacked students. The reason they were not given more is because of the fact that they were defending your sister and used relatively harmless spells.”

“In every deliberation I make, in every action I do, in every word I speak, there must be consideration of all the possible consequences of what they could cause. In this case, if I expelled all three of your sister’s attackers, it would be seen as favoritism for the Potter siblings, which would galvanize those already questioning my competence to join the ranks of those who are calling for my removal, both from here and the Wizengamot. I trust you read the article in the _Daily Prophet_ about my announcement last school year - the energy generated by that article was almost enough to get me removed as Headmaster and as Chief Warlock. What was more worrying than the fact that the motion to remove me was almost successful was the number of abstainers.”

“Anyone who abstained from that vote didn’t know what to believe at the time, and that is a dangerous position for so many to be in. Some won’t be convinced by a simple expulsion of violent students, but some will - and that is the danger.”

“But what if they attack Kristina - or someone else, even - again?” Harry demanded. “What if they permanently injure someone or kill them?”

“Then I will have ample justification for expelling them, or perhaps sending them to Azkaban.” Dumbledore sighed. “I cannot afford punishing them as you would like me to - that would be enough, as I’ve said, to push the undecided, both in the Wizengamot and in the public, off the fence.”

“So you’re not willing to do what’s best for your students in your own self-interest?” Harry asked, and Dumbledore smiled sadly.

“It is in my students’ best interests that I stay - if I get removed, do you really think the Ministry would allow my appointed successor to take my spot? No, they would put someone dedicated to making sure no one believes Voldemort is back, and not preparing the students for the war that is coming.”

“You are genuinely concerned about your sister, Harry - and that is admirable. I suggest you attempt to focus the energy of people like the three that attacked your sister on a more deserving target.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“By making connections with those in other Houses - and choosing a target that most everyone can agree is a deserving target.” Dumbledore winked at Harry, and it suddenly hit him.

_Lockhart! If I get everyone to energize against him, then people will see Kristina as a heroine for standing up to him! No one really likes him - there’s a few who’re still infatuated with him, but that’s ending. The time to strike is soon - I’ll need to talk to Draco about this and see what he thinks._

“Thank you, Professor - this conversation has been most enlightening.”

“You are welcome, my boy - feel free to stop by anytime.” Harry got up and walked out, thinking,

_Even if Dumbledore’s the one who took away my emotions, I still have to live at Hogwarts - at least until Voldemort gets me out. May as well let him think I’m getting closer to him - it’ll make my life easier._

###

Dylan was scrubbing desks in the transfiguration room with Hermione when Kristina opened the door.

“I, um, have something to give McGonagall,” Kristina said, looking around uncertainly. “Where is -”

“I am right here, Ms. Potter,” McGonagall said from her desk. “What do you have for me?”

“Flitwick told me to give you this envelope,” Kristina said. Dylan scrubbed away furiously as the thoughts about the injustice of how he got detention for defending his sister.

 _I got detention for doing the_ right thing _! I need to talk to Dumbledore about this - it’s just so unfair!_

Dylan heard the sound of an envelope being opened, and a few seconds later heard McGonagall say,

“Thank you, Ms. Potter. Your prompt delivery of this is much appreciated.”

“No disrespect meant, but why couldn’t an owl have delivered this?” Kristina asked, and McGonagall chuckled.

“Owls do not deliver as promptly as good students,” she said. “Now, I’m sure you have work to get back to.”

“Yes, Professor,” Kristina said, and walked out, the door shutting behind her.

“What was that, Professor?” Dylan asked, moving on to the next desk.

“Filius is proposing a solution to a problem that is purely rational, as he often does. He is attempting to get me to make it presentable to the staff.”

“And you can’t tell us the solution? Or even the problem?”

“Of course not - if I told a student, regardless of who they were, eventually all students would have at least some inkling of what we were discussing.”

“That’s...” Dylan trailed off, trying to refute it.

“Entirely correct,” Hermione said. “Even if I think I wouldn’t, I can’t be certain of that - and McGonagall has no incentive to tell us, anyway. With the chance of every student knowing if she tells someone with no positives for one course of action, it’s clear that she shouldn’t tell us.”

“...What?” Dylan asked, and Hermione sighed.

“It makes sense for her not to tell us because that’s the better course of action.’

“Oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading. I appreciate all of you and I hope you recommend this to a friend. Or two friends. Or share it on social media. Also, if you have a comment, please do not hesitate to leave it in the comments section. 
> 
> Odium Dei


	10. Interlude 5: A Staff Meeting

###  Interlude 5: A Staff Meeting

“Minerva, start us off, would you?” Dumbledore asked, and she mentally prepared herself for any comments from Gilderoy. 

“Yes, I will. As you all know, a student was attacked by three older students in the halls, and the only reason she was not injured was because two other students - her brother and her friend - disarmed and distracted her attackers.”

“How old were the ones who stopped her attackers?” Pomona asked, and Minerva replied,

“They were twelve - they apparently know spells that many their age don’t.”

“Quite impressive,” Leroy said, smiling. “Dylan an’ Hermione would placed in fourth-year classes back at Luz del Sol without a doubt - perhaps even higher.” 

“Regardless of how impressive their spells were for their age, the point I would like to make is that more students need to learn how to defend themselves against magic, regardless of their age. I suggest starting a new club for students of any age to study practical defensive magic, which would be supervised by myself and Filius.”

“Wait just one moment,” Gilderoy said, brow furrowed. “Isn’t practical defensive magic part of the Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum?” 

“Yes, it is in theory, but there is often not enough class time to practice or learn spells that would often be used,” Minerva said, trying not to let any trace of disgust for the man onto her face. “Thus, we feel that with the already difficult load of classes you have, it would be better for Filius and I to teach this club.”

“Would there be any offensive magic taught in it?” Albus asked, and Minerva turned to him.

“Perhaps, but only basic disarming spells and the like.”

“I see no reason not to allow this,” Albus said, nodding. “But make certain that the offensive spells are kept to a minimum.”

“Of course. Does anyone have objections?” Minerva fought to keep her face blank when she saw Gilderoy’s expression that looked as if he were thinking as hard as he could to come up with a reason to - she succeeded, but barely. No one spoke up, and Minerva nodded. “Good. Now, Leroy, there was a matter you wished to bring to all the staff’s attention?”

“Yes, you bet there is,” Leroy said grimly. “I believe that there is a spell or spirit in the castle affectin’ the aggression of the students, and likely that of the staff as well.”

“What led you to this conclusion, Leroy?” Albus asked, voice serious. 

“The students are actin’ in a manner that’s inconsistent with the normal patterns of stress as the school year goes on,” Leroy explained. “This week, there have been more yelling matches, incidents of harassment, and conflict in general among the students I’ve seen than in the previous three weeks - perhaps even twice the amount. From mah experience, this doesn’t happen, not even when final exams are about to. Unless there’s a stressor that I am not aware of, there’s an outside force at work here.”

“Has anyone assigned large exams sooner than Winter Exams?” Minerva asked, looking around at the staff. No one spoke up, and she nodded to Leroy. “Thank you for bringing this to our attention - this will be investigated.”

“I just wanted to make sure y’all were takin’ precautions against threats like this.”

“We will. Now, let’s continue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was short, but I hope you still enjoyed it - I'll try to be uploading more frequently from now on. Of course, I've probably already said that, so...
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! If you have friends that like stuff like this, recommend it to them! It'd make me super happy!


	11. Chapter 5: Unity in Anger, Part 2

###  Chapter 5: Unity in Anger, Part 2

“...And that’s why I want to get people united against Lockhart,” Harry finished, looking at Draco, Blaise, and Pansy. “I think the best way to make sure he gets sacked is to get people from all the Houses opposed to him.”

“Who’s to say that whoever replaces him won’t be worse?” Blaise asked, and Harry looked at him.

“That is a concern, but hopefully Dumbledore will realize he needs to get someone better than him. And I’m pretty sure the staff don’t like him either - they don’t have much tolerance for someone like him.”

“Are you sure we could get someone to replace him at all?” Pansy asked, narrowing her eyes. “If we protest, and he stays because Dumbledore can’t find a teacher, anyone who’s overtly against him could get detention - or worse.”

“As much as I dislike Dumbledore, he’s not stupid,” Harry explained. “He’d teach Defense for a short time if he had to, I’m sure.”

“You seem to be sure of many things,” Draco said coolly. “I’m simply wondering if a critical part of this plan relies on assumptions that aren’t necessarily true.”

“We can start out by meeting with people from the other Houses. I have people I can talk to in Ravenclaw, but I don’t know anyone in Hufflepuff, and I don’t have a good relationship with Gryffindor -”

“ _ No one _ in Slytherin has a good relationship with Gryffindor,” Blaise interrupted. “And vice versa.”

“That’s true, I guess.” Harry sighed. “Do any of you know anyone in Hufflepuff?” 

“I do not.” Draco’s face was like smooth stone - showing nothing of what was beneath.

“I know a couple of people - whether or not they’re willing to listen to me about this is anyone’s guess,” Blaise said, sighing. “I’ll go along with this, for now - I want to see that bastard gone as much as anyone.”

“What about you two? Pansy? Draco?” Harry asked, and Pansy contemplated it for a moment.

“I’m in,” she said. “But if things start to go south, I wasn’t the one who started this.”

“That’s fine. Draco?”

“...I will do it. Perhaps it would be a good chance to practice diplomacy.” 

“Great. Then, who’s going to go to Hufflepuff with Blaise?”

“I will.” Draco looked at Harry. “I will make certain things go according to the plan.”

“That’s great. Pansy, are you alright with me?” Pansy nodded, and Harry smiled. “We’re going to take Lockhart down.”

###

Harry and Pansy were walking up to Ravenclaw Tower when Pansy asked,

“Who do you know in Ravenclaw, aside from your sister?”

“I know her friends, Padma Patil and Hermione Granger,” Harry said, and Pansy narrowed her eyes. 

“Granger?”

“She’s a Muggleborn,” Harry said, anticipating a comment about “Mudbloods”.

“Ah... I see.” Pansy kept walking, but Harry could feel that she was a little more tense.

“Please don’t do anything that makes getting Lockhart out less likely, ok?”

“Of course.” Pansy seemed to be a little less tense, but Harry knew he could just be imagining it. 

_ I just hope this doesn’t turn into a shitshow. _

###

Padma, Kristina, and Hermione were talking in the Ravenclaw Common Room when Luna Lovegood walked in with Pansy Parkinson and Harry Potter. Padma tensed, feeling the mild Dark aura emanating from Pansy. 

“What are you two doing here?” Padma demanded, and Kristina put a hand on her shoulder, the sense of strong magic calming her. 

“What do you want?” Kristina asked quietly, and Luna spoke up.

“They don’t like Lockhart, and want to get you to help get rid of him.” Padma saw Pansy and Harry simultaneously gape at Luna, and wondered, not for the first time, how Luna knew what she knew.

“How did you -” Harry began, but was cut off. 

“The spirits told me.” Luna said matter-of-factly. She was perfectly calm, almost eerily so. “They hear a lot you don’t think they do. Of course, not everyone can hear  _ them _ , so you shouldn’t worry too much about them knowing your secrets.” Padma wanted to laugh at the expressions on the two Slytherins’ faces, but stopped herself and instead focused on Kristina’s pure, strong magic. 

“So, you two are basically ambassadors from Slytherin?” Hermione asked, and Harry nodded.

“We want to get Lockhart sacked - he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, he’s petty, and -”

“We know he’s bad - he’s the one who took away a bunch of Ravenclaw points because I was telling the truth. He’s a fraud - I’m betting at least three-quarters of what he’s written is fake, if not more.”

“Oh. Right.” Harry seemed to be readjusting, and Pansy took over.

“We want to ask for your help in getting him sacked - meetings that plan out what to do to get him sacked, executing those plans, getting more people on board, and so on.”

“What’s our guarantee you won’t sell us out?” Padma demanded, and Harry narrowed his eyes as Pansy turned to her.

“Sophisticated Purebloods don’t sell each other out - that’s for the Light, Muggle-loving Purebloods and Mudbloods to do,” she said coolly, and Harry rounded on her.

“ _ Silencio _ ,” Harry snapped, pointing his wand at Pansy, and she started to move her mouth, but no sound was coming out. “You’re not going to say anything else until we get out of here.” Padma had drawn her wand, as had Kristina, but Harry turned to them.

“I apologize for the actions of my companion,” he said, right fist over his heart, and Padma realized what he was doing after he said the next words. “They were harsh words spoken in anger, rashly used. I ask not your acceptance of them, but your forgiveness of them, and hope we can continue forward together.”

_ He’s apologizing using a Light Pureblood traditional apology? How does he  _ know _ that - I thought the Potters had forsaken those traditions! _ Padma thought, eyes wide. Then she remembered the proper response, and realized that since she was the only one who understood what he’d done, she had to respond.

“We can forgive words, but will not accept them,” she said, fist over her heart as well. “As long as it is realized that what is said and done is never forgotten, we can move forward together.” 

_ That Parkinson bitch needs someone to slap sense into her, but not if it’s going to endanger the effort to get rid of Lockhart. I bet Harry’s going to do that just fine, though, _ Padma thought, and nodded coolly to Harry, who breathed a sigh of relief.

“If you need to think about it, that’s fine - just send a couple people down to Slytherin and have them ask for Potter or Zabini. One of us should be there. It’d be great if you could send someone by the end of the week.”

“How much support do we need to have?” Kristina asked. “In our House, I mean - how many people need to agree with us?”

“To start, probably five or so people, but for what I’m planning, we’ll eventually need at least fifty from each House. That’s in the long run, though - five’ll be good for now.”

“Very good. See you, Harry, Parkinson,” Kristina said, and Hermione echoed her.

“Bye, Potter. Make sure the people you bring with you can be civil.”

“Bye, Kristina, Hermione, Padma. Make sure you don’t provoke any more conflict than is necessary.” Padma flushed as Harry went out of the room, Pansy following him while mouthing angry things.

“He got you good,” Luna said dreamily, and Hermione chuckled. 

“Hermione -”

“Calm down,” Kristina said, letting out a deep breath. “You need to explain what happened with the apology between you and my brother.”

“Um, well,” Padma said. “It’s an ancient... ritual, you could call it, for apologies amongst different Light Pureblood families...”

###

“What the  _ fuck _ was that, Pansy?” Harry demanded, having muttered the countercurse to  _ Silencio _ and had her sit down. “You said you wouldn’t make things worse, and yet, you did!”

“You don’t get it,  _ Potter _ ,” Pansy said, putting emphasis on his last name. “If a Light Pureblood insults a Dark one, there  _ has _ to be a reciprocal exchange.”

“Using the word “Mudblood” is  _ not _ a reciprocal exchange,” Harry said vehemently. “You think you’re  _ so much _ better than Muggleborns? Enough to justify treating them like pieces of  _ shit _ ? They’re  _ people _ ,  _ Parkinson  _ \- people who are  _ every bit  _ as much a person as you. Hermione is  _ every bit  _ as much a witch as you, and has  _ just  _ as much right to learn and be at Hogwarts as  _ you  _ do.”

“You  _ really _ don’t get it, do you?” Pansy said, shaking her head and smirking. “Mudbloods are ruining our culture - they’re trying to make themselves a bigger part of the Wizarding World! I know you’re a Halfblood, but you’re a Slytherin - I thought you would understand. Obviously, I was wrong.”

“ _ Understand _ why you think it’s ok to insult people based on whether or not their  _ parents  _ were magical, regardless of  _ them _ ?  _ Understand _ why you, and Draco, and so many people here in Slytherin are so prejudiced? How could I  _ understand _ why you all are so prejudiced?”

“I see - I have nothing further to say to you,” Pansy said coolly, and left the Common Room. Harry felt anger welling up inside him, and tried to quiet it.

_ I am calm, I am calm, I am calm... _

“Harry, you appear distressed,” Draco said, walking into the Common Room with Blaise. “What is the matter?”

_ Draco’s a blood purist, too - I can’t tell him, because then this effort will be endangered even more - and Kristina might get bullied again. _

“I’m just thinking about Lockhart,” Harry said, and Draco nodded thoughtfully. 

“I see. How was your meeting with your contact from Ravenclaw?”

“It went alright. How was yours?”

“Zabini stopped me from saying something about the Mud -”

“ _ Don’t say it _ .” Harry felt the words come out of his mouth, harsh and unyielding, even though he hadn’t realized he was about to say it. Draco looked stunned, and Blaise sighed. 

“I had to do the same thing, Potter,” he said. “it turns out when blood purists have to interact with those they consider inferior, it brings out the worst in them.”

“Why are you so angry, Harry?” Draco asked. “You know what I think of them -”

“I know what you think of  _ us _ , yes,” Harry retorted. “That doesn’t mean I like to be reminded of it.”

“Harry, we’re friends, are we not?” Draco asked, wide-eyed. “Friends don’t cut each other off -”

“And friends shouldn’t insult each other, but we’ve both done something friends don’t do, haven’t we?” Draco’s jaw went a little slack, and Harry continued. “Just remember, every time you insult Muggleborns, you insult  _ me _ . And it turns out I don’t like it when my friends insult me.” Harry stood up stiffly and went to the second-year boys’ dorm, slamming the door behind him and pulling his four-poster bed curtains shut. 

_ Why? Why did Draco have to be raised with that blood purist bullshit? _

_ Maybe a better question is why I had to become friends with Draco. _

###

Draco sat in the Slytherin Common Room, studying his Potions book. Or rather, pretending to. He was seething with anger inside, but still maintaining a somewhat bored and calm appearance. 

_ Harry just does not  _ understand _!  _ he thought vehemently.  _ He does not understand what the Mudbloods are doing to our culture - they are diluting and eroding our traditions, taking our money and using it for their own useless purposes!  _

_ Maybe  _ I _ do not understand, _ a small part of Draco thought. 

_ Of course I understand - Mudbloods are simply worse than us!  _

_ And if Harry cannot deal with that fact... I don’t know. _

“Draco, do you have a minute?” Zabini asked, and Draco inclined his head.

“Of course. What about?” he replied calmly.

“Potter.” Draco felt his heart pound in his chest.

“Of... of course.”

###

Dylan was walking with Ron up to Gryffindor Tower after Transfiguration. They’d just been informed that there was going to be a defensive magic club, led by Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick.

“I’m  _ so glad _ we’re going to have a way to learn defensive magic,” Dylan said, shaking his head. “Lockhart’s just teaching us to believe his lies.”

“Mate, aren't Slytherins going to be there?” Ron asked uncertainly. “Do we reckon they should be running around with spells that can hurt us?”

“We just need to practice to be better than them, is all,” Dylan said, smirking. “And we will be.”

“Dylan!” Kristina called from behind him, and Dylan turned to face his sister. “Finally - I thought you’d gone to the library. Anyway, Hermione and I need to talk to you.”

“About what?” Ron demanded. “Why do you need to talk to  _ him _ ?”

“You can come too, but it’s very important. Can we come into the Common Room?” Kristina asked as Hermione came up behind her. 

“Yes, of course, but what is this about?” Dylan said, and Hermione stated simply,

“Lockhart.” 

“Ah.” The four made their way into the Common Room and sat down. Kristina took a breath, and said,

“We need to get the Houses united against Lockhart - we want to get him sacked.”

“So does  _ everyone _ , mate, but how’re you going to do it?” Ron asked, and Kristina gave him a look Dylan thought was her way of saying “you just asked a question that I was about to address”. 

“We have certain ideas, like getting a bunch of signatures on a petition that says that the people who signed don’t want Lockhart in the school because he’s incompetent, or talking to Dumbledore or the Board of Governors or some such thing. We don’t know yet, but we need support from all the Houses to start a movement against Lockhart.”

“And since we’re the people you know in Gryffindor, you decided to ask us to help you?” Dylan asked, and Hermione nodded.

“We need about five or so people from every House to be able to meet together and make a plan for getting him out,” she said. “Continuing on from there, we can get more and more people together until we have an unstoppable force that can get him out.”

“Are you in?” Kristina inquired, and Dylan pondered it for a moment.

“Is Slytherin going to be involved?”

“Yes.” Kristina’s eyes seemed to be challenging Dylan to not join, and he replied,

“As I expected. I’m in, but we’ll only work with the Slytherins until Lockhart’s out, and if they do something stupid, we’re not working with them.”

“Ron? Are you going along with Dylan?” Hermione asked, and Ron nodded.

“I don’t like Slytherin, but I don’t like Lockhart more,” he said simply. 

“Great. We’ll be in touch - get your five people together in a couple weeks at the most.”

“Consider it done.” Dylan smiled. “I’m looking forward to wiping that bastard’s gilded smile off his face.”

###

Harry was lying on his bed, thinking about what Luna Lovegood had told him after she’d come down to the Slytherin Common Room.

_ She said that Gryffindor’s on board with this idea, but how long will that last? And how many people from Slytherin will want to work with the other Houses, even if it is to get Lockhart out? Most of them hate Muggleborns, and I’d be surprised if they thought it’d be worth being polite to them to get this done. _

_ And Draco, especially... I didn’t know he hated Muggleborns that much. I thought he was my friend - but he thinks I’m  _ less than  _ him because I’m a Half-Blood? What is - _ The door to the dorm opened, and Harry heard Draco and Blaise talking.

“...You are aware this is not likely to be successful, correct?” Draco hissed.

“Of course I do, Draco - now go talk to him.” Harry could hear the beaming smile in Blaise’s voice, the one that Harry knew was fake. 

“Harry?” Draco asked, and Harry sighed.

“What is it, Draco?”

“I would... like to apologize for my insults towards your mother a couple of days ago.” Harry’s eyes went wide, and his jaw went a little slack. “I’m aware that you and I disagree on the issue of... of the Mu-Muggleborns, but I did not want that to destroy our friendship. Therefore, I apologize for my behavior.”

_ Merlin, Draco just apologized! What convinced him of that? _ Harry got out of his bed and saw Draco standing near the door, with Blaise next to him. 

“Thank you, Draco.” Harry almost wanted to cry in joy. “I... I’m glad.”

“Are... we friends?” Draco asked uncertainly, and Harry nodded, smiling wide.

“Yes, Draco. Yes we are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I'd update more, didn't I! And lo, I have! Wow! I'm amazed. Thank you all for reading!


	12. Chapter 6: Unity in Anger, Part 3

###  Chapter 6: Unity in Anger, Part 3

Dylan walked into the room that had been designated as the first anti-Lockhart meeting space, with Ron and three other Gryffindors with him - a fifth-year girl named Fae, as well as the two Weasley twins, Fred and George. They sat down at the long table, and waited for the others to arrive.

When he saw Harry, Malfoy, and the three other Slytherins arrive, he felt a grimace come onto his face, and worked very hard to put a mild smile in its place. 

_ I know they have to be a part of this, but that doesn’t mean I have to like that - and if any of them say something bad, I’m going to point it out, and hopefully get them kicked out of this. _

_ But what if we need them to get Lockhart out - _

_ If they’re going to insult others in here, then we don’t need them, _ Dylan decided, as the other two Houses’ groups sat down.

“Alright,” Harry said, and Dylan looked at him - and so did everyone else.

_ Why is he in charge? _

“We’re all here because we want to get Lockhart out of the school -  so let’s lay down some ground rules for these meetings and how we’re going to accomplish that. I have a rule I’d like to propose first off - no derogatory comments about anyone’s race, sex, socioeconomic or blood status, or anything like that. All in favor?” Dylan watched, stunned that Harry would propose something like that when his House was the most likely to violate it, as everyone in all the Houses, including the Slytherins, raised their hands. Dylan did as well, and Harry nodded, smiling lightly. 

“We have consensus, then. How do we want to record these rules? A single scribe, or something else?”

“I’ll be the scribe,” Hermione said excitedly. 

“Does anyone have any problems with that?” No one spoke up or raised their hand, and Harry nodded. “Let’s continue then.”

###

“And so, which of our three ideas should we try first?” Harry asked the group, looking around at each House. “Should we put it to a vote, or do we want to discuss it more first?” Kristina raised her hand, and Harry nodded to her.

“I’d just like to say that the petition will be useless if we try it  _ after _ trying to drive Lockhart out with incidents of harassment - which I think is a bad idea anyway, though maybe a last resort - and that contacting the board of governors will be more effective if we have a petition with a bunch of names on it.”

“But the petition is also the most dangerous,” Cedric Diggory, a fifth-year Hufflepuff, said. “If Lockhart decides to take action against us, that’s just giving him a list of the people he needs to give detention to and take points from.”

“But if we have a huge list, he can’t do that - or at least, would lose a lot of credibility if he did,” Kristina countered. “And if we post it in public, that gives the opportunity for more people to sign it and see that everyone around them doesn’t like Lockhart either.”

“Who said we had to post it in public?” Dylan asked, and everyone looked at him. “We could just get a bunch of people to sign it and then bring it to Dumbledore - and if  _ that _ fails, we can post it in public, so we can get the teachers’ support - or just send it to the governors.”

“That’s actually a really good idea,” Kristina said, and Diggory nodded grudgingly. 

“It is,” he said. “So we’re going with the petition as a first step?”

“Well, let’s take a vote,” Harry said, smiling. “All in favor of starting a petition and getting it signed to present to Dumbledore, raise your hands.” Harry counted the nineteen hands in the air and added his own. “All against?” No one was left to raise their hand, and Harry said, “The motion to start the petition against Lockhart and present the end result to Dumbledore passes, 20 to 0. Consensus.” 

“Got it,” Hermione said, scribbling furiously on her parchment. 

“How many signatures are we going to require before we present it Dumbledore, or do we want to see what happens first, and how many we can get?”

“The second one, probably,” Fred Weasley said, pondering it in an exaggerated fashion. “Yes, that seems to be the best decision.”

“Of course,” Kristina began, seemingly trying to choose the best words. “If we get below a certain amount, we might not want to show it because it might make our cause look weaker.”

“How many students does Hogwarts have?” Harry asked, and Diggory replied,

“About 1000, now - the second-years are a small class, but the others have about 40 per House per year, so 160 times 6...”

“960,” Hermione said, and Diggory looked at her, surprised. 

“Yes, I suppose it is. So a bit above 1000, actually, since there’s about 80 second-years in the school.”

“Do we want to make sure we have above 100 signatures on it, then? A tenth should be a big enough portion to make sure that we’re not laughed at,” Harry said, and Diggory nodded agreement. “All in favor of making sure there are at least 100 or more signatures on the petition before showing it to Dumbledore, raise your hands.” Harry counted nineteen hands, and added himself. “All against?” No one was left, and he said, “We have consensus - 20 to 0 in favor of making sure there are 100 signatures on the petition before showing it to Dumbledore. Do we want to make it right now, or should we research charms and the methods we want to use before then?”

“I think the Ravenclaws should handle that part of it - they seem to know what they’re doing in Charms,” Fred Weasley said, and George nodded emphatically. 

“Yes, Fred, they can even use cleaning charms, unlike a certain brother of ours,” George said, and Ron turned red around the ears. 

“Fred, George,” Harry said, exasperated. “Cut it out. We’re here to be united, not to divide with teasing and making fun of others. Save the energy for making fun of Lockhart.” Fred and George’s eyes lit up simultaneously, and Harry knew he’d just started something - he didn’t know what, but knew he did. 

“Yes, of course, Harry. We apologize,” they said in unison, and Harry smirked. 

“Good. Now, are there any issues anyone else would like to bring up here?” No one raised their hand, and Harry nodded. “Good. Can I see that record of the meeting, Hermione?” She nodded, and passed it to him. “ _Exscribo!_ _Exscribo! Exscribo!_ ” Three copies appeared, and he handed the original back to Hermione, and one to Dylan and one to Diggory. “These are the records of the meeting - do not let them into anyone else’s hands. Of course, we’re all screwed if Lockhart gets these, so I would hope you would all feel that protecting them is in all of our best interests.” Everyone nodded, and Harry said, “This first meeting of the Anti-Lockhart Committee is adjourned. Good job, everyone.”

###

“That went surprisingly well,” Hermione said, walking back up to Ravenclaw Tower with Kristina and Padma. 

“Yeah, I thought Dylan was about to have an apoplexy when he saw that Harry was there,” Kristina said, shaking her head. “Fortunately, he managed to keep his cool - and even contribute a little.”

“I’m just glad that we’re one step closer to getting rid of -” The portrait swung open to reveal the very object of their conversation, talking to Flitwick. 

_ Shit, what’s Lockhart doing here? _ Hermione thought, panicking.

“...And I would just like to say that I appreciate your prompt attention to this matter,” Lockhart said, smiling his disgusting, gilded smile. 

“Of course, Gilderoy - anytime.” Lockhart walked past the three of them, and smiled again at them. 

“Good evening, ladies,” he said.

“Good evening.” Hermione’s voice was clipped and irritated, and she knew she should’ve made more of an effort to make it not so, but Lockhart just kept walking.

“Professor Flitwick, what was that about?” Kristina asked, walking up to him.

“Oh, just that he’d been told by a student that a few of the students were trying to slander him, and that I should be vigilant about that.” Hermione felt her blood run cold.

_ Who could it be? Harry wouldn’t do that, neither would Dylan - is it someone in Hufflepuff? Or is it someone in Slytherin or Gryffindor that doesn’t agree with it? Or did someone just overhear us? Either way, we need to figure out how to tell the others about this! _

“Oh, that’s unfortunate. Well, let’s go, Hermione, Padma,” Kristina said, and Hermione followed her and Padma, wondering,

_ Is this going to make our whole plan collapse? _

###

“So, we have more signatures than we thought - about 200,” Harry said. “Do we want to keep getting more or take this to Dumbledore?”

“I have something to say,” Kristina said, and Harry nodded at her. “Ravenclaw hasn’t been getting many signatures - we only got around 25 - and the reason for that is that Flitwick held a House meeting about the punishments for slander of staff members. We think someone in Ravenclaw - or maybe somewhere else - leaked what we’re doing to him.” There was a chorus of shouts from the table, and Harry thought,

_ This is bad, and I need to calm people down. _

“Silence!” Harry yelled, and everyone fell quiet. “There’s no use blaming anyone at this juncture unless we have actual proof that someone did it -”

“McGonagall gave us the same speech,” Ron said, and Harry saw Dylan whirl to face him, as if he hadn’t wanted him to say it. 

“So did Professor Sprout.” Harry’s eyes widened, and he realized what had happened. 

_ Someone wanted to get Slytherin out of the coalition - because I’m kind of leading it? Or because they thought we would be the easiest to pin the blame on? It doesn’t matter. I need to figure out how to prevent this from destroying everything before it really gets started. _

“Slytherin did not receive such a speech from Professor Grant,” Harry stated. “I would assume one of two scenarios occurred - one, that Lockhart got wind of our plan and wanted to divide us by getting the most easily blamed House out of the committee, or two, that Lockhart told each Head of House to do so, and Professor Grant did not follow his advice. Either way, _Lockhart_ _knows_ that someone’s trying to stir something up against him, and he’ll know it’s us if we publish the petition publicly. I propose going to Dumbledore with a representative from each House as soon as possible with the combined petitions and explaining to him what we want.” 

“How do we know it’s not a third scenario - where  _ you _ were the ones who leaked it to Lockhart, and now are getting immunity from punishment?” Dylan demanded, and Harry turned to him.

“Why would Slytherin have gathered over 100 signatures had we been the ones who didn’t want this to succeed? Why would Lockhart have granted us immunity in such a way that we would be able to gather more opposition to him?” 

“Are you blaming  _ Gryffindor _ ?” Dylan shouted, standing up. “I won’t -”

“No, he is not. Harry is saying that there is likely a student  _ outside _ of this committee that does not want Lockhart to go - for what reason, I do not know, but that is what he is positing.” Draco had spoken, and Dylan was glaring at him with hatred in his eyes. 

“If we allow this, something that doesn’t make sense for Lockhart to do had a Slytherin asked for immunity, to divide us, Lockhart will win. He’ll stay as the DADA teacher this whole year, and maybe even on past then. We  _ cannot  _ let that happen.”

“So, who is in favor of going to Dumbledore now with the combined petition and explaining the situation to him?” A few hands went up, followed by a few more hesitant ones. Then there were all nineteen hands up, without Harry’s. “All against?” No one raised their hand, and Harry sighed. “The motion to bring the petition to Dumbledore passes with consensus, 20 to 0.” 

“I would like to have the representatives be chosen by the House opposite them - so Slytherin would choose Gryffindor’s representative, Gryffindor would choose Slytherin’s, and so on. Any objections?” No one said anything, and Harry said, “Take five minutes to decide who you want from the House opposite you going to talk to Dumbledore.” He turned to the four Slytherins with him - Blaise, Draco, and two 4th-years, a boy and a girl, named Leeman Bonvie and Helen Von Essen. 

“I believe we should choose Dylan Potter,” Leeman said, and Blaise nodded agreement. 

“He seems to be the best choice out of three Weasleys and a fifth-year that doesn’t talk.”

“I am in agreement.” Draco looked to Harry. Helen nodded, and Harry said,

“That sounds like the best option, I agree.”

_ As much as I don’t like Dylan, he  _ is  _ the best option in this scenario. _

After five minutes, Harry said, 

“Slytherin chooses Dylan Potter.”

“Ravenclaw chooses Cedric Diggory,” Kristina said.

“Gryffindor chooses Harry Potter.” Dylan was looking right at Harry as he said that, and Harry realized that he probably didn’t want to be working with him any more than Harry wanted to be working with Dylan. 

“Hufflepuff chooses Hermione Granger,” Diggory said, looking intently at her when he said it. She nodded thoughtfully in response.

“Good. Let’s go - the rest of you can go. This meeting is adjourned. Good work.”

###

“...And this is the petition with over 200 signatures on it,” Harry said, pulling out the copy he’d prepared and placing it on Dumbledore’s desk. “Which is approximately one-fifth of the student body, and was gathered in one week.” 

“I see,” Dumbledore said gravely, and sighed. “Have a seat, you four, if you would.” Four chairs popped out of the ground, and Harry sat, as did the others. “You say that Lockhart is incompetent - and I will not argue that point with you, I have received reports of his classes - and that he is a danger to the students. Why?”

“He released a jar of doxies thinking they were pixies,” Hermione said energetically. “He had no idea how to control them, and so it was up to us to stun them and get them back in the jar. Only me, Padma, and Kristina were doing anything - everyone else in my class was hiding and protecting themselves from them.”

“In addition, he lacks restraint and control,” Cedric said. “Both over his magic and in general. He has cast spells that, given their unrestrained magnitude, could have seriously injured or even killed students. One such spell that he cast in demonstration, which almost hit a student, was the Inverted Light spell - the incantation for which is  _ Lux Inverso. _ ” Harry saw Dumbledore’s eyes twitch, and wondered what the Inverted Light spell did.

“Distressing, indeed,” Dumbledore said, stroking his beard. “I will take this under advisement. In the meantime, I would appreciate if you did not go stirring up unrest.” Harry saw the other three of his compatriots nod, and spoke up.

“We won’t, unless you don’t take action within five days,” Harry stated calmly, looking at the other three.  _ Idiots - they should know that Dumbledore would take as long as we let him to fire Lockhart! _ “If you don’t do something in five days, we’ll start going further.”

“Very well. I will discuss this with a few of the staff and take action on this issue within five days from now. However, if any of you go stirring up trouble around this during the next five days, I will consider our agreement null and void. Are you amenable to this?” Harry narrowed his eyes, seeing the eyes of his compatriots on him. 

“Yes, I do believe we have an agreement.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave whatever form of encouragement you want in the form of comments, kudos, and/or subscribing - even if I'm busy until the summer, I'll still try to update more. Thanks!
> 
> Odium Dei


	13. Chapter 7: Five Days

###  Chapter 7: Five Days

Dylan collapsed into his bed after the first day of their agreement with Dumbledore. He had been in Lockhart’s class, who had seemed out to get him for some reason. He had been called out for things that others were doing - and were doing so more loudly and obnoxiously. He’d even had 15 points taken from Gryffindor for various dumb reasons.

_ Someone probably told him about the petition - and he either has guessed or knows that I’m a part of it.  _ Fuck _ him - he needs to go! _

_ I hope I’ll be able to sleep well tonight - or maybe I’ll have the dreams again. _

###

_ Dylan was running along a dark road, tall grasses on either side of him. The half-moon above was shining pale light down, letting him see where he was going. _

_ Then, they came. _

_ The dark horses, with Voldemort on the one in the front, were galloping towards him. Other, masked people - Death Eaters, Dylan assumed - were on the others. He kept running as fast as he could, trying to outrun the horses, but he knew that he had no chance.  _

_ Dylan turned and raised his wand against the oncoming Death Eaters, knowing that if he had to die, he would do so while taking some of them with him. _

_ “ _ Lumen Ardere! _ ” he cried, three lines of white-hot light spinning out of his wand. The lines hit three different horses, making them and their riders explode into flame.  _

_ “ _ Expelliarmus, _ ” a familiar, yet changed voice said, and Dylan felt his wand get torn out of his hand. He looked towards the speaker, and his heart stopped.  _

_ “Harry, why are you -” he began, but Harry smirked and cut him off. _

_ “This is what you deserve for helping Dumbledore - this is what you get for helping him destroy my free will at one point. This is what I will give you, in return for all those years at Hogwarts when you scorned me and acted like I was evil. I have truly become what you call evil, yet the word that you use now is the same as when we were but second-years. Tell me, do you believe in self-fulfilling prophecies?” Harry laughed, a dark, terrifying laugh, one that Dylan could tell was touched by madness. “You helped make me ‘evil’ - you helped Voldemort win. So for that, I suppose, I thank you.  _ Avada Kedavra _!” _

###

Dylan woke up in a cold sweat, remembering his dream perfectly and shuddering. 

_ What are these dreams? Are they premonitions that will come true? Or are they just me being afraid of Harry going Dark? Whatever they are, I should probably talk to McGonagall about them... _

_ She’d probably laugh me out of her office - coming to her about something as mundane as bad dreams? Aren’t I better than this? _ Dylan sat up angrily, shaking his head as if to clear it.  _ They’re just bad dreams, and they’ll go away if I stop thinking about them all the time! That’s all I need to do! _

###

The second day after the agreement with Dumbledore was stressful for everyone involved in the anti-Lockhart group in Ravenclaw, Kristina knew. Even Hermione had been occasionally snapping at people with only the slightest provocation, and Kristina knew that she herself had been worse.

_ How can we survive five days of Dumbledore mulling over his decision, if it’s only going to get more stressful from here on out? I can barely keep up with my studies, much less be able to mediate any arguments within our group! _

_ I’m just glad we don’t have a meeting scheduled, _ Kristina thought gratefully.  _ We’d all be at each other’s throats for no reason other than that we’re stressed.  _

Even though they had pressured Dumbledore for as quick a decision as possible, there were some students who disagreed with how they’d handled it. Crowley Davenport, a 3rd year who had signed the petition, had told Kristina and Hermione that while he was glad Dumbledore was going to take action in five days, they should have pushed for a shorter timeframe, and that the restrictions they had accepted showed their weakness. 

Hermione had informed Crowley that they had done the best they could, and that he should be angry when and if Dumbledore didn’t kick Lockhart out. Kristina was glad Hermione had handled it, because she wasn’t sure she could have stayed as civil as Hermione had. 

_ Idiots like Crowley need to realize that you can’t always get all of what you want, especially in politics, _ Kristina thought.  _ Wait, is this politics? I guess it is - I don’t know how to describe it, but trying to get Lockhart out seems like it should qualify. _

_ Maybe I should get some books from the library about political strategies and tactics.  _

###

The third day after the deal had been struck with Dumbledore, Harry and Draco were sitting at dinner when Dumbledore rose from his chair and tapped his spoon on his glass. The conversations gradually quieted, and Harry knew he must have cast a  _ Sonorus _ spell or the like when he began speaking.

“Students, I have some sad news to share with you all,” Dumbledore announced, stroking his beard. “Professor Lockhart is now under investigation from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement -” Dumbledore waited for the collection of gasps to quiet before continuing. “- And will not be teaching at Hogwarts any longer.” The roars of appreciation were so loud and from so many that Harry wondered if the whole hall was shouting.

“However,” Dumbledore said, raising a hand for silence several seconds after the roars. “This leaves us with a vacancy. I will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts until Professor Severus Snape, who is currently on leave, returns.” There were cries of joy and Harry heard several cry “Thank Merlin!” at the announcement. “When Professor Snape returns, he has agreed to take the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.” The shouts of joy ceased, and were instead replaced with sounds of confusion.

“That is all.”

_ So he  _ did _ act?  _ Harry wondered.  _ Or was this outside of his control? Either way, Lockhart’s gone, for good. We did it. _

###

Kristina was walking up to Dumbledore’s office with Hermione and Padma, knowing that after the announcement, someone had to find out why it had happened. 

_ What’s he being investigated for? _ Kristina wondered as she quickened her pace.  _ Is it something he did here? Or is it something else?  _ As she got to the gargoyles, Kristina said,

“I need to speak to Dumbledore,” and they parted, letting her and her friends through. As they walked up the stairs, she heard a sigh from what was probably Dumbledore.

“Ah, Ms. Potter, Ms. Granger, Ms. Patil - what brings you here?”

“You probably already know, Professor, but I want to know the circumstances behind Lockhart’s investigation, and what prompted that,” Kristina said, looking directly at him.

“Ah, yes. I suspected that might be it. Now, Ms. Potter, Ms. Granger, Ms. Patil - will you not have a seat?” The three sat, Hermione glancing at Kristina before she did. 

“Gilderoy Lockhart is being investigated, among other things, for lying in a court of law,  _ Obliviating  _ numerous individuals, and potentially being affiliated with the Dutch terrorist group Lightning Leaf.” Dumbledore sighed, shaking his head. “I was informed two weeks ago that he was under investigation, and was subsequently asked whether I could keep him here for a little while longer to gather evidence against him.”

“I agreed, but in order to keep the students safe, I demanded that there be two Aurors on duty here while the preliminary investigation was going on. They were to be working in a pair to make sure that they were not  _ Obliviated _ separately by Lockhart, and they are now gone, having taken Lockhart with them.” 

“Have you made sure none of the students were  _ Obliviated _ ?” Hermione asked, and Dumbledore shook his head sadly.

“There is no known way to determine if someone wasn’t  _ Obliviated _ without looking through their mind one at a time, and even if we put aside the obvious ethical question that looking through an entire school’s worth of students raises, there simply isn’t a feasible way to do it - there aren’t enough Legilimency practitioners in Great Britain that could be hired to look through all the students in a timely fashion.”

“I want to make sure my mind isn’t tampered with, though,” Hermione said anxiously. “What if I was  _ Obliviated,  _ and I’ve forgotten something important -”

“If you ask Dumbledore politely, he might do it for you,” Kristina said, a small smirk creeping onto her face. “He’s a  _ Legilimens _ \- a Legilimency practitioner.”

“Ms. Potter, why did you deign to reveal that?” Dumbledore asked, shaking his head. “And how long have you suspected?”

“It just makes sense that you would be,” Kristina said, looking at him with her small smirk still on her face. “If you think about how you were the leader of the Order of the Phoenix during the War, how would you make sure you didn’t have any traitors? Or at least make sure the most important members weren’t traitors?”

“In addition, you’re extremely competent as a professor and have had almost a century to learn it - while it takes only about four decades to truly master it, I’ve read.”

“While false in most situations - it depends on how disciplined the mind is, in addition to many other factors,” Dumbledore said with a beaming smile. “Your conclusion was correct - I am indeed a  _ Legilimens _ . Now, I will have to ask you three not to discuss this with anyone, as it would cause unnecessary anxiety should it get out. Am I understood?” Dumbledore looked at each of them over his half-moon glasses, and Kristina nodded along with Padma and Hermione. “Good.”

###

“So Dumbledore  _ didn’t _ actually remove Lockhart of his own volition?” Dylan asked angrily, in the final meeting of the Anti-Lockhart group. “So we accomplished  _ nothing _ ?”

“Lockhart was under investigation before we took the petition to Dumbledore,” Kristina said, sighing. “But we may have sped up the process of Dumbledore wanting to get rid of Lockhart.”

“The Department of Magical Law Enforcement would have done it  _ anyway _ !” Dylan exclaimed. “So why are all of you celebrating like we accomplished something?”

“Because we got what we wanted, didn’t we?” Harry said from across the table. “Does it matter that we weren’t the ones behind it? The end result is the same, regardless.”

“Of course a  _ Slytherin  _ wouldn’t appreciate what it feels like to have actually  _ done _ something,” Dylan snapped.

“And why am I not surprised that a  _ Gryffindor  _ is the first to destabilize the discussion?” Draco asked, a smirk on his face.

“Both of you, stop - we’re not here to fight, we’re here to debrief!” Hermione said, glaring at both Draco and Dylan. “Does anyone have anything  _ productive  _ to say?” Dylan sat back in his chair, glaring at Draco, who regarded him with a smug smirk. 

_ Why is he smug? He got scolded too! _

“I would just like to say that regardless of the cause of Lockhart’s removal, we accomplished something here greater than getting rid of him,” Cedric said, and Dylan snapped his head to look at him. “We got members of the four Houses to cooperate with each other around a common cause. That is something that we should all be proud of.” Dylan frowned, but saw Harry, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs nodding. 

“Cedric has a point - I’m also glad we managed to come together,” Kristina said. “I hope that if another situation arises like this, we can come together again.” There was a moment of silent nodding, and then she continued. “If no one else has anything else, we can end this meeting and celebrate that Lockhart is gone.” Dylan looked around, and no one else seemed to want to say anything. “Then good work, everyone!”

_ What did we even do, aside from “unite”? Nothing!  _ Dylan thought furiously.  _ We had Lockhart’s removal handed to us on a silver platter! _

_ We need a real challenge - and I think I know exactly what that is. I’ll see if some other Gryffindors want to do it too - then I’ll spread it to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.  _

_ Snape won’t know what hit him. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I just graduated, so I hope to have more time to work on this fic. Thank you all!


	14. Interlude 6: Problems on All Sides

###  Interlude 6: Problems on All Sides

Melanie Shine, a 23-year-old British Auror, was not having a good day. She’d just been told that her department was getting budget cuts, and that some of her close friends would be laid off.

But that was nothing compared to the funeral she’d been invited to - the one of her best friend all through school and Auror training, Freya Jaskolski. Freya had been on a mission to investigate suspicious activity in Knockturn Alley, along with Jack Tipper. 

He’d come back with the body floating behind him, his left arm chopped off, and his face holding all the horror of someone who’d seen murder done in front of them. 

Tears were rolling down Melanie’s face at her desk, and she didn’t care what her co-workers thought of her at this point. 

_ It has to be You-Know-Who - it has to be! _ she raged.  _ Who’s the one to blame for Freya’s death?  _ You-Know-Who _! And what am I not allowed to do as part of my job? Even  _ acknowledge  _ that he’s back! Fudge is corrupt, the Ministry is corrupt - _

_ And I still need money for rent and food, _ Melanie knew, and she balled her fists.  _ This is bullshit. Freya dies, and the Ministry won’t even acknowledge You-Know-Who’s return! I need to resign - I can’t do any good when the Ministry won’t even see the threat in front of it. _

Melanie got up, picking up the envelope with the resignation letter she’d penned a couple hours ago in it, and walked across several halls to the Head of the Auror Office, Rufus Scrimgeour. She knocked, and heard a voice say, 

“Enter.” Melanie opened the door, expecting to see Scrimgeour working on paperwork. Instead, he was sipping tea, alongside Amelia Bones, the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. 

“Hmm.” Scrimgeour paused. “What brings you here, Melanie? Oh, this is Amelia Bones - Amelia, this is Melanie Shine, one of my finest Aurors.” Melanie narrowed her eyes at the compliment, but opened them and smiled at Amelia.

“Nice to meet you, Madam Bones.”

“You as well, Ms. Shine.” Amelia’s smile was potentially genuine, but Melanie was not in a place to care about sincerity.

“Mr. Scrimgeour, I have here my resignation letter.”

“I’m sure you do. Now, tell me verbally why you’re leaving - I’d rather hear it personally than read it in a letter.” Scrimgeour was looking directly at her, and Melanie swallowed involuntarily. 

Nevertheless, she began.

“I’m leaving for a host of reasons,” Melanie began. “But the most important reason is that the most likely cause behind Freya’s - Freya Jaskolski’s - death is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and the Ministry won’t even acknowledge his existence, going so far as to fire anyone who says he’s back. So, as an alternative to being fired, I would rather resign.” As she said this, Melanie watched the faces of Scrimgeour and Bones, and saw them change from polite to more grim, and perhaps a little irritation in Scrimgeour’s face. 

“You are the fifth Auror to come to me today with a resignation letter,” Scrimgeour said, shaking his head. “The eleventh to express frustrations today about the silencing of talk regarding He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s return.” He sighed.

“Have you considered that perhaps it is better to stay where you may be able to change something than to leave and not be able to change it at all?”

“How can I change anything now?” Melanie retorted. “All the Aurors could tell Fudge that You-Know-Who is back, and he would just ignore it.”

“Precisely the point - he would ignore it, because he can’t afford to fire the entire Auror office,” Scrimgeour said, and Melanie stared at him.

“You’re actually suggesting I -”

“Now, I’m not suggesting anything. I’m simply stating that if a large enough group of people from a critical enough part of the Ministry said things contrary to certain guidelines put in place by the Minister, he would be powerless to stop them without shooting himself and the Ministry in the foot, so to speak.” Scrimgeour grinned. “You will find all the allies you need in the Auror office, and even some others. Few are happy with the state that the Ministry is in.”

“You’re just trying to get me to stay, aren’t you?” Melanie accused, and Scrimgeour cocked his head. 

“I’m trying to get you to stay, yes, but who said anything about ‘just’? I rarely do things ‘just’ for one reason.”

“I’ll stay - but I want assurances from you and Madam Bones that you’ll do everything reasonable in your power to keep Fudge as harmless as possible,” Melanie said, and Madam Bones laughed, and told her,

“Believe me, Ms. Shine, we already are.”

###

Snape took one last look at the remote house where he’d been brewing 52 doses of the Elixir of Life for the past few months. Its potions lab had not been ideal in terms of equipment, but he had managed, and the peace of mind he’d gotten from the isolation were well worth it. 

_ I have completed the task given to me - now I will go to the Malfoys’, and then return to Hogwarts. Dumbledore knows that I have been brewing the Elixir, and yet thinks I am valuable enough of a spy to justify “allowing” me to do so. _

_ Dumbledore is a fool, and yet I must wonder how much he knows.  _

_ It is no matter - my Occlumency has been practiced under the best of the best. It has been tested by both Dark Lord and Light Lord alike - and yet neither could see into my true feelings.  _

_ Beware, Light Lord - your reign will soon end. _

###

Lucius Malfoy sighed as he Flooed back to his Manor, and promptly summoned a house elf to come bring him tea. 

“Lucius, has your day wearied you?” Narcissa asked, striding into the room, her gown swirling around her. 

“The Minister is a fool,” he replied, sipping from the teacup the house elf had brought him, and dismissed him. “He thinks that he is able to conduct business privately, without my knowing. He is wrong, of course, but that simply causes one more problem for me to solve.”

“I see. Are you doubting your influence over then Minister?”

“My dear, if I was, I would not have rested until I had restored it.”

###

James Potter opened the letter with trembling fingers, and as he read it, he felt his heart begin to pound.

_ “The Order is remobilizing. It needs every person it can get - Britain needs every person it can get. With a Minister in denial and a rising Dark Lord, the threat is the same as twelve years ago. We must destroy this threat. Details of a meeting will be sent if the confirm spell is cast on this.” _

_ “Albus Dumbledore” _

“Lily!” James called in a distressed voice. She came running, and looked concernedly at him.

“What?” James held up the letter.

“We’re remobilizing.”

“This means... It’s real, isn’t it?” Lily sighed. “I was hoping it was less immediate, something we could put off...”

“I was too.” They sat in silence for a moment, and then James sighed. “We swore, though, didn’t we? That we would make a world safe for our children?”

“And we will.” Lily paused. “We have to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate all of you so much.


	15. Chapter 8: Snape Returns

###  Chapter 8: Snape Returns

Harry walked into Defense expecting to see Dumbledore, who’d been teaching for a week and a half. Instead, he saw Snape, sitting behind the professor’s desk, looking at some pieces of parchment. 

“Ah, hello, Harry,” Snape said, without looking up. “Is there a reason you arrive early to class this year? Or is this simply a coincidence?”

“Professor! Welcome, um, back,” Harry stuttered, surprised to see his Head of House back. “It’s a coincidence. When did you return?”

“Late last night. Thankfully, I took a potion this morning derived from the coffee bean - what potion would that be?”

“Either a Pick-Me-Up Potion or a Pepper-Up Potion, but since you don’t seem to have any shakiness or anxious ticks, I would assume Pick-Me-Up,” Harry said, and Snape nodded approvingly.

“I see that Professor Grant has not dulled your knowledge of Potions - though I’m sure Lockhart did regarding Defense.” Snape added the last part disdainfully. “Perhaps you would join me for dinner tonight? There is much we must discuss.”

“Of course,” Harry said, and then saw Draco walk in. “I will take my seat, then.”

“Good.” Snape continued going through what Harry assumed were his lesson notes, as Harry sat down next to Draco. 

“Where were you?” Harry asked. “I had to leave without you.”

“I was in the library - I shall tell you about it later,” Draco whispered back. “My apologies for making you come here alone.” Draco was smirking, and Harry chuckled.

As the rest of the second-year Slytherins trickled in, along with the second-year Ravenclaws, Harry noticed a sense of dread among the Ravenclaws - and even some of the Slytherins. 

_ For the Ravenclaws, that makes sense - but why would the Slytherins be like this?  _ Harry wondered, and then felt a gentle tug at his mind to forget about it.  _ Wait, why would I forget about this? What’s going on?  _ Another tug.  _ I need to use my Occlumency.  _ Harry envisioned hunting dogs in his mind, trying to look for the source of the intrusion. He followed them, running faster than he should have been able to, and finally caught up to the intruder.

It was a ball of bronze light, about the size of a Quaffle, and was hunting towards the center of Harry’s mind - but Harry grabbed a hold of it and saw its origin.

_ Why did Snape cast this spell? And is this what’s making everyone else dread this class? _ Harry told his hunting dogs to grab a hold of it, and grabbed a chunk of dark, sharp crystal, stabbing the ball of light with it. It shrieked as if in pain, and exploded into nothingness.

Harry opened his eyes, and saw Draco, Kristina, Hermione, and a few others holding their heads as if noticing something wasn’t right, but he knew what was wrong. 

“ _ Finite Incantatem! _ ” Harry yelled, after drawing his wand, and he felt the sense of dread lift among the Slytherins - though it stayed with some of the Ravenclaws. Everyone looked at him, as if confused as to why he had yelled out a spell. “You’re welcome.”

“For  _ what _ ?” snorted a Ravenclaw. “For yelling at the beginning of class?”

“For getting rid of the spell that was making you all get nervous and hate this class,” Harry said. 

“Very good, Mr. Potter,” Snape said, rising from his desk, black robes swirling as he stood. “You saw a threat, and not only defended yourself against it, but also the others in this classroom.” Everyone looked at Snape, most with confused faces. “Tell me, Ms. Patil, what is the name of this class?”

“Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor,” Padma said, confused, and Snape nodded. 

“Yes. And what is more of a Dark Art than attempting to change one’s mental state involuntarily, or control their mind? You all have focused on the physical aspect of Defense - when you focused on Defense at all, courtesy of your first-year teacher and  _ Lockhart  _ \- and have never been taught the importance of defending not only your body, but defending your  _ mind _ . Can you survive without a leg? Yes, though it is difficult, but it can be regrown.”

“But can you survive if a piece of your mind gets cut off? That, no one can regrow.” The class was dead silent, not even the parchment and quills that had been gotten out scratching. Everyone was fixated on Snape, who commanded the attention on a day with relatively few surprises. Today, no one could think of ignoring him or turning their attention elsewhere.

“Few of you, if any, have even the slightest idea of how to defend your mind,” Snape continued. “And that is what I intend to remedy, beginning today. I will teach you spells intended to defend you from external threats, while hoping that all of you maintain a focus and awareness on your internal state.”

“There will be dangerous situations in this class, ones where students may lose control of themselves, and perhaps do things you might not expect of them. I will handle them, and none of you are to attempt to do so, unless extenuating circumstances occur. Am I clear?” Everyone nodded, Harry noticed, many of them looking terrified. Harry suddenly realized he was trembling as well, and focused his attention inwards again.

He found the intrusion and snuffed it out in an instant, and felt the fear recede. 

_ He can influence our emotions like this - how is he doing it? Is this illegal? _

“Treat this class as a battlefield, one where you must constantly be observing, calculating, and, above all, deciding in a single instant what actions to take. That is my advice for you.” Snape turned, going to the blackboard and tapping it with his wand. “With that, you all will take notes on the Disarming Charm, the incantation for which is  _ Expelliarmus. _ ”

Harry buckled down, preparing for more intrusions into his mind as he took notes, and hoping beyond hope that everyone in the class made it through.

###

Kristina walked out of Defense Against the Dark Arts feeling like she’d been killed with  _ Avada Kedavra _ , brought back to life, driven to insanity, and then brought back to the boundary between sanity and madness.

_ Merlin, what  _ is _ that class? How is it that stressful - it doesn’t make sense that taking notes, even under Snape, would normally be that stressful. _

“Hermione, how’d that class go for you?” she asked, trying to control the shakiness in her voice. 

“It went reasonably well, after I realized my emotions were being manipulated and that I couldn’t trust them,” she said, and Kristina just looked at her. “What?”

“I know Snape was doing stuff at the beginning, but - wait, he had more than just the first spell?” Kristina asked, and Hermione nodded slowly.

“Yes, there were at least three emotion-manipulating spells cast today in that class. One of them was for dread - which Harry ended - but also one for fear, and then another one I couldn’t pinpoint, given that it was taking place in addition to the one for fear.”

“How did you figure out to be on the lookout for that?” Padma asked, and Hermione turned to her.

“Well, he said to ‘treat this class like a battlefield’, right? I figured he wouldn’t say that unless he meant something by it, and so, given the fact he said students might go out of control as well, I assumed he wouldn’t just stop with one mental spell.”

“How did you stop the spells?” Kristina asked Hermione, and she replied,

“I didn’t - I just tried my best to ignore my emotions, because I knew they couldn’t be trusted.”

“You can  _ do _ that?” Padma exclaimed. “That’s... ridiculous!”

“Regardless, it’s what I did.” Hermione stopped. “You can’t?”

“Not without potions or spells,” said Padma, shaking her head. “It’s inconceivable that you can.”

“Isn’t there a branch of magic that deals with the mind, and defending it?” Kristina asked, trying to steer the conversation away from dangerous areas. “What’s it called?”

“Oh! I know what you’re talking about,” Hermione said. “I think it’s Occlumency - we should go look for a book that talks about it.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Kristina said, smiling. “Let’s hit the library.”

###

Parvati Patil was not having a good day.

She had, for starters, been woken up too many times during the middle of the night by late-night chatter, and didn’t understand how those that were part of that could function in the morning. In addition, she’d been through a hellish Defense Against the Dark Arts class, with everyone seeming on edge during and after it. And finally, Ron, as he often was, was being an arse. 

“I’m going to  _ kill _ Trevor MccAffrey!” he exclaimed as they walked down the hall. “He is the most  _ annoying _ person I’ve ever  _ met _ !”

“Give it a rest, Ron,” Parvati said, sighing. “You’ve been on edge since Defense - just calm down.” 

“Maybe  _ you _ should give it a rest, Parvati! Just because you  _ act _ calm and cool doesn’t mean you can act all high and mighty -”

“Ron. Shut up.” Dylan was speaking, and in a tone that tolerated no disagreement or rebuttal. “Calm down - we all had a rough time in Snape’s class.”

“...Fine.” Ron looked away angrily, and Parvati sighed. 

_ What a  _ fantastic _ day this is shaping up to be. _

###

Snape entered his private quarters, locked the door, behind him, and sighed.

_ Emotional manipulation as basic as this only being resisted by Harry and that Granger girl? The second-years are in worse condition than I’d thought - they have such weak control over their emotions that I likely could use mundane means of causing emotions and they would be just as susceptible to them.  _ Snape smirked as he realized what he should do next. 

_ If they think their emotions are being modified magically, they’ll be less likely to fight them if they think they can’t be fought. If I simply put them in a situation where they could be a little suspicious, they will likely become suspicious that I am using magic on them - which would fuel their paranoia.  _

Snape toasted himself with a glass of wine from his private cupboard.

_ There’s nothing like small-scale psychological warfare to keep oneself interested in the affairs of one’s classroom. _

###

“No, I won’t go along with it.” Kristina’s eyes were hard as she refused Dylan. “I don't want to destroy any chance of cooperation with Slytherin by trying to oust Snape.”

“What the hell!” Dylan exclaimed. “Aren't you sick of his terrible teaching and favoritism? How can you just support him like this?”

“I don't support him, Dylan - but I don't support trying to get rid of him,” Kristina said as Dylan’s mind raced angrily. “He’s at least competent in teaching Defense, and has more patience in that than he did in Potions. The consequences of trying to get him removed would be enormous.”

“What are these ‘consequences'?” Dylan sneered. “They sound like an excuse you're using because you’re afraid of Snape lashing out at you. When did you become a Slytherin, Kristina?”

“When did you become a completely shortsighted asshole, Dylan?” Kristina asked, and walked away.

###

Kristina knocked on the door of Flitwick’s office, and heard him call,

“Come in!” 

She opened the door and walked in, looking around at how the office hadn’t changed almost at all since last year. 

“Ah, Kristina - what may I help you with?” Flitwick asked from his desk.

“Professor, I’ve been wondering about something - is there a branch of magic that deals with protecting the mind?”

“Why, yes there is. I’ve rarely had any interest in it from those younger than 15, but if you would like to learn, I have a book that may teach you.”

“Can’t you teach me?” Kristina asked, and Flitwick sighed.

“No, Kristina, I cannot,” he said. “I have only a basic understanding, and would likely do you a disservice if I tried to. The book I am referring to will teach you the basics of Occlumency - that is what it is called - and will do so in such a way that will be most beneficial for you.”

“It is enchanted in such a way that it will not let you advance to where you are not ready to go yet - which is necessary in young ones such as yourself, I’m sorry to say. Many of you are far too eager for spells and abilities you do not have the skill to scratch the surface of without getting hurt.”

“I see - well, I’ll retrieve it.  _ Accio  _ The Sanctuary of the Mind!” A book flew off a shelf and into Flitwick’s hand.

“Here is it, Kristina -  _ The Sanctuary of the Mind _ , the book that is widely considered the best beginner’s guide to Occlumency.” Flitwick handed Kristina the book, and she smiled warmly.

“Thank you, Professor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I've been gone for a while... College is great though! I'll try to use my free time to write this, since I'm not working as much.


	16. The Battlefield of the Mind

###  Chapter 9: The Battlefield of the Mind

Draco breathed a sigh of relief as class ended, and he felt the spells he knew Snape had cast wear off as he went out the door. He heard others doing the same, and his lip curled at the idea that he had been so vulnerable to mental spells.

_ I really must practice Occlumency, _ he thought.  _ Harry already knows it, and so he might be able to teach me.  _

“What spells are being used to do this?” Draco wondered aloud, and Harry turned to him as they were walking down the hall together. 

“Since the second day, none,” Harry said. Draco’s eyes went wide, and he rounded on Harry.

“What do you mean? How is that possible? I have felt such terror and rage -”

“Snape’s using mundane methods of making you suspicious and off-balance - he doesn’t need to use spells when he already has everyone afraid of the spells he might use.” Harry sighed. “It’s very effective, not just on you, but also on everyone - even me to a degree.”

“Why did you not tell me?” Draco hissed. “What possible reason do you have for not informing me of this, when it has adversely affected me in that class?” 

“I... didn’t think of it,” Harry said. “I’ve been busy.”

“Yes, I know you go to the library for half your waking hours, practice spells for the other half, and then go to class in the  _ last  _ half!” Draco said in a forceful whisper. “Still, I would think you would have more time for me, when I  _ went with you _ to stop -  _ him  _ \- last year!” Harry blinked, and Draco wondered if it was because he had just made a joke that Harry didn’t understand how to deal with. 

“I’m sorry, Draco, but I need to get stronger -”

“Then why do you not get stronger  _ with _ me, instead of leaving me to the side and attempting to solve everything yourself,  _ prat _ ?” Harry blinked again. “A single warrior cannot face down an army, and neither can you. Getting stronger by yourself, while not useless, is not the best way to prepare for conflict.”

“Draco, I understand that you’re upset, but there are things that I have to do by myself that I don’t know how you would -”

“I was not aware that power was the only thing that mattered to you, Harry - I suppose I was wrong.” Draco turned and walked away, thinking furiously,

_ He is infuriating - why doesn’t he want me to be with him? When did he start disliking me?  _ Why _ does he only want power now? _

_ Why did he change? _

###

Albus Dumbledore sighed as he finished reading the motion that Amelia Bones, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, had sent to the Wizengamot. 

_ It is a good proposal, but it will not pass. There are too many who still stand by Fudge and his blind ways of thinking - or who are unsure of the merits of giving more funding and authority to the Auror Office.  _ Dumbledore narrowed his eyes.  _ And this does not seem like something Amelia would posit on her own - she is likely working with Scrimgeour, and trying to get Fudge removed that way, for whatever reason. _

_ I suppose potential allies can be found in places where I least expect it - or at least, non-adversaries.  _ Dumbledore looked around his office, wondering if there was anything else to do with regard to the Ministry. After finding nothing, he thought,

_ Giving Severus the Defense Against the Dark Arts position may not have been a popular decision, but he will do a better job of preparing the students for the next war than I could, with my limited resources. Even if the complaints from students are that he is draconian, I know that he will take it seriously - unlike Lockhart or Quirrell.  _

###

Draco was walking down the stairs to the Slytherin Common Room. He knew that lunch was going to be served soon, but he didn’t care. He just wanted some time to think.

_ Or, if I am being truly honest, to cry, _ Draco thought to himself, and flinched as the truth of the statement went home. He grimaced as he said the password, went into the room, and then barged into the second-year boys’ dorm. 

What Draco didn’t expect to see was Blaise doing the exact thing he’d been planning to do: crying. Blaise heard the door open and whirled around, eyes red and face streaked with tears. 

“You -” Blaise began in a choked voice. “You - don’t tell anyone about this! I’ll kill you!”

“I will not, do not worry,” Draco said, kneeling down beside Blaise, who was in the corner. “What’s the problem, if you want to talk about it?”

“My mum’s been arrested,” Blaise choked out. “Our assets and estate have been frozen, and she’s going to stand trial!”

“What are the charges?” Draco asked, his eyes wide.  _ I hope it is not too terrible - _

“Murder - of all my dads.” Blaise gave in to sobbing, and Draco wondered,

_ Seven counts of murder? That’s a life sentence in Azkaban if she gets found guilty... _

“What are you feeling right now?” Draco asked, putting a tentative hand on Blaise’s back that was not swatted away.

“I don’t know what to feel or what to believe - my mum always said that it was an unlucky string of coincidences, but it would make sense that she had murdered them - but I don’t  _ want _ her to have murdered them! I want her to be the mother I know, not a cold-hearted killer! I want her to be someone who  _ didn’t _ lie to me for my whole life!”

“She has not been found guilty, Blaise - for all you know, there is only a shred of circumstantial evidence allowing them to arrest her, but will not hold up in court -”

“I know she did it.” Blaise’s voice was flat. “I know she did - it all makes sense. I just never thought about it before. I didn’t  _ want _ to think about it before - and now I have to.” Blaise fell into sobs again, and Draco wondered,

_ How can I be the support when I was going to cry like he was? Would he have done the same for me? _

###

“Professor, why are you using the tactics you are in Defense?” Harry asked during his weekly lesson with Snape the second week of October. “Why are you scaring everyone as much as you are?” 

Snape looked at him and scoffed, saying, “Do you really think that any of them will survive a war when none of them have been even slightly exposed to psychological distress beyond the minor odd academic discomfort?” Harry blinked. He didn’t really understand what Snape was saying. 

“What do you mean, sir?” Harry asked, and Snape let out a breath of frustration. 

“They’re not going to survive the war when the Dark Lord comes back, no matter which side they’re on, if they can’t deal with a two-hour-a-week period of psychological warfare that they can escape from.” Snape paused. “War is a never-ending battle on many fronts, the psychological only one of them. I am preparing my students to survive - more important than knowing the spell that will save your life is the willpower to survive in any way possible - which can be snuffed out far too easily.

“All I am doing is making them more likely to survive.”

“Isn’t that... cruel?” Harry regretted saying it as soon as the words left his mouth, and Snape just looked at him.

“War is cruel, but sometimes it is necessary. Remember that. It is better to stand and fight than be trampled and subjugated.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

###

“Mr. Potter, why would you want us to have a dueling club?” McGonagall was asking. They were in her office, for one of Dylan’s lessons, and Dylan had just asked if she could be a supervisor for a dueling club.

“Because Professor Snape is bad at teaching, and I want to be more prepared for combat when the War comes - and everyone else would benefit too,” Dylan said. “I think Hogwarts should make sure its students survive, even if we shouldn’t really  _ have _ to teach combat magic, it’s necessary.”

“Mr. Potter, I understand that you think Professor Snape is not preparing you.” Dylan opened his mouth to retort, but McGonagall continued. “However, I will take this under advisement, and I will inform you of my decision within a week.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

###

“Harry, I have a favor to ask of you,” Draco asked as they were walking back to the dungeons.

“Yes, Draco?” Harry replied, wondering what it was about, and if it had anything to do with their earlier argument that Draco still seemed to be thinking of. 

“Can you teach me -” Harry felt a strange feeling behind his eyes, and the next thing he knew, he was lying in his bed, and his roommates were starting to get up for the day.

_ What in Merlin’s name? _

###

The whole morning, Harry didn’t see Draco, and felt oddly naked without him next to him. 

_ Where  _ is _ he? Is he sick? _ Harry wondered, and resolved to go to the Hospital Wing once DADA was done. 

The instant Harry walked into the classroom, Snape said, “Come here, Mr. Potter.” Harry raised his eyebrows but did so anyway. 

“What is it, sir?”

“Go to the Hospital Wing immediately - Professor McGonagall will explain once you arrive. Now, get out - I have a class to teach.”

“What, sir -”

“Go!” Snape said in a slightly raised voice, and Harry ran out of the classroom, heart pumping in his ears.

_ This has to be about Draco - what happened that’s so bad that they can’t talk about it? Is he... is he dead?  _ Harry felt tears begin to form in his eyes.  _ Shit, I didn’t want this! _

When he reached the Hospital Wing, Harry burst in, and looked around for Draco.

“Mr. Potter.” McGonagall was standing in front of him. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Malfoy?” Harry felt the tears begin to fall.

“Yesterday, when we were walking back from dinner! When did he... did he die?” 

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy is not dead. However, he is petrified, and we cannot identify the curse used to do so. We  _ must _ know where you left him, and as close to an exact time as possible.”

“I... I can’t remember.”

“What do you mean, Mr. Potter?”

“I don’t remember what happened between me walking with him and when I woke up this morning!” Harry yelled, feeling his heart rate rise. 

“Mr. Potter, let us go visit the Headmaster’s office.”

“Why?” Harry demanded. 

“Because he may able to determine why this happened. Come  _ on _ , Mr. Potter.”

###

As they entered the office, Harry had the distinct feeling of being watched.

_ Probably some spell Dumbledore has on his office,  _ Harry knew, and narrowed his eyes at the thought of Dumbledore being aware of everything going on in his office. His mind was confused, though, given the fact that he’d just been told his best friend was petrified and the curse used was unidentifiable, so he didn’t really know what he was feeling.

“Mr. Potter, please sit down,” Dumbledore said, and Harry realized he’d walked up to the desk. He shook his head slightly and sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk, with Professor McGonagall already sitting down in another. “I realize that this situation is very shocking, but I must hear when you last saw Mr. Malfoy, and what you were doing.”

“We were walking back to the dungeons, talking normally, and then I was in my bed, waking up,” Harry said quietly. “I can’t help you - I don’t remember anything in between.” Harry saw Dumbledore’s eyes widen just slightly, and wondered what that was about.

“Albus, the signs are all the same as they were 50 years ago,” McGonagall said, and Harry glanced over to look at her pale face. “A student had memory loss, when they were with another student, who was then found petrified.”

“Yes, Minerva, I fear the Chamber of Secrets has been opened once more.” Dumbledore looked back at Harry. “Mr. Potter, I must ask you not to speak of this to anyone, to prevent panic.”

“I will, if you tell me what the hell the Chamber of Secrets is,” Harry replied, somehow suppressing his emotions that told him to cry, to yell, and to flee, none of which would be helpful to getting Draco back. Dumbledore sighed.

“It is a chamber hidden in the school, created by Salazar Slytherin during the founding of the school. It is said to house a monstrous being that can petrify and kill without leaving a trace.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College has gotten busy, so I'm sorry I haven't rolled out a chapter in a while. Still, I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Leave comments and kudos, and subscribe, please!


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